Insomnia
by withoutmarbles
Summary: Updated only for old readers. Being rewritten, most likely. What if it had been Alice and Jasper instead of Edward and Bella? Alice Brandon isn't proud of what she's done to herself. It's all she can do to hope her visions will lead to something better.
1. Forks

**Insomnia**

Chapter 1

Crying wouldn't help me, I knew. But watching the clouds fly by underneath me - clouds that covered the home I was leaving behind - would push me over the edge soon. I wanted some sort of physical outlet, and crying seemed the perfect way to fulfill that desire. My body thought so, at least.

Instead of allowing myself to shed the tears, I pulled the cover over the window I sat beside, concealing the arial view of Biloxi, Mississippi. The pain I felt dulled only slightly the moment it slid shut.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the music blaring from the earphones the preteen boy next to me had jammed into his ears, though I knew my efforts would be in vain. I didn't think he would have heard me if I had asked him to turn it down, anyways.

The minutes dragged by, and the boy's music seemed to be all that I could hear. Perhaps it was because I was making it that way, not allowing myself to think the unpleasant thoughts threatening to surface from the darkest depths of my mind. My focus was completely on the loud rock music. It was all the more irritating because the sound was slightly muffled, making it impossible for me to understand the beat properly, or decipher the lyrics. If I could have, it was probable that I would be able to lull myself into some sort of trance, letting the music consume me.

I couldn't, and so it was pointless to wish otherwise. Where had wishing gotten me, anyways? On a plane, flying to the worst place I could possibly imagine. Forks, Washington, one of the rainiest places in the United States, if not the rainiest of them all. I _hated_ the rain.

Forks also happened to be the home of a world-class psychiatrist. That was the one and only reason that I had been shipped off to the tiny little town. If not for Dr. Campbell, I would be content and happy at home, maybe taking a trip to the park with my fourteen-year-old sister, Cynthia.

With a sigh, I leaned against the wall next to me, allowing my eyes to open to slits. The plane was rather ugly, even here in first class. The ceiling was a horrible beige color, with little marks of brownish dirt smeared randomly across its surface. It looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in several months.

Forcing myself not to shudder in revulsion, I turned my attention to the carpet, which wasn't much better. The pattern didn't have any reason or rhyme to it, and that irritated me even more than the stupid music that the boy wasn't even listening to anymore, for he had fallen asleep quite some time ago. I envied him somewhat; at least he could properly _enjoy_ sleep. I was an insomniac. It was rather silly, really, seeing as sleeping was what had landed me on this plane in the first place.

Growing bored of the nonsensical carpet, I reached under my seat and grabbed my carry-on bag. The airline provided cheap earphones, so I figured I could get a good hour of music out of my ancient Macbook. Its battery life was pathetic, but my parents had insisted that we didn't destroy the environment by throwing out a computer that still had the ability to perform the tasks I required it to perform.

We could have donated it to charity or something, but _no_, my parents were determined to make my schoolwork even more miserable than it always was by forcing me to do it on the world's slowest computer. As if to add to my fantastic home-schooling experience, our teacher was a miserable old hag. I had the sneaking suspicion that she made our work much more dull than necessary, just for the fun of watching myself and my sister struggle to complete the overwhelmingly boring worksheets she gave us. Why my mother couldn't have taught us, I wasn't entirely sure, seeing as she had gone through teacher's college and all. But she had always said her calling was to public schools, and that teaching us would only cause problems in the future.

_I_ said that it was a load of crap. Both of my parents were in it for the money - they had made _that_ much obvious. My father was always working extra hours at the hospital, coming home late at night and leaving far earlier in the morning than he should be if he wanted to get a good night's sleep.

However, their efforts did not go to waste, for we were practically rolling in money. My parents refused to tell me exactly _how_ much money, but I was sure it was much more than they let on. If we weren't wealthy, my little habit of shopping whenever things got to be too much at home would have us in the poorhouse within days.

I still couldn't find it in me to think of them without bitterness - a part of me wanted to disown them completely, pretend I had never had anything to do with them. They both claimed that sending me to Forks was going to be a _good _thing for me in the long run, but I failed to see how that could possibly be true, seeing as I wasn't mentally ill in the first place. A part of me wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry until they saw sense. I somehow doubted they ever would, because I guess people don't do well with life walking up to them and going, _"Oh, by the way, your oldest daughter is a psychic. Surprise!"_

My parents don't do so well with surprises, as it so turns out, so here I sat, on my way to the Seattle airport, where my aunt, uncle, and three cousins (two of which I'd never met, Joshua and Isaac, twins, and one I hadn't seen since I was ten, Angela) were waiting to pick me up. I didn't understand how my parents had gotten them to take me in - as far as I knew, my mother and aunt weren't on speaking terms. Ah, well. What did it matter now?

Lost in my own thoughts as I tended to be, I hadn't noticed that my Macbook had long since started up, and that my lap was heating up from the warmth emanating from the computer.

Pushing all of my thoughts aside, I reached into the small compartment in front of me that held the airline's cheap headphones. The wire looked like it had been chewed on by someone or something, and I resisted the almost overwhelming desire to smash open my concealed window and toss them out into the air, letting someone else deal with them. Unfortunately, I knew that they were the key to the only release from reality that I would be able to find on this plane, so I had to make the best of what I was given.

I bit my lip so that I wouldn't make a face as I grabbed them and unzipped my bag, rummaging through the various items I had brought with me in vain hopes of finding my own pair of earbuds. My inhaler hit the side of the bag, the cap popping off loudly. Several heads turned in my direction. I blushed, and hurriedly snapped the cap back on, praying that I wouldn't need to use the inhaler on the plane; I was, after all, feeling quite stressed, and my father had once boasted that he was _sure_ that psychological strain was a trigger of asthma attacks. The last thing I needed were random flight attendants fussing over me because my face had gone totally red and I sounded like I was dying.

My rummaging accomplished nothing, much to my dismay, and I zipped my bag back up and stuffed it under my chair once more.

It was awfully quiet. So quiet, in fact, that I felt compelled to turn down my music to the second lowest volume so that I wouldn't disturb anyone.

For the second time that afternoon, I closed my eyes, this time allowing my music to take over me, rather than my annoyance at a silly little boy. I didn't pay attention when a voice appeared on the PA, announcing that we were experiencing turbulence, or when the mother of the preteen boy escorted her child to the bathroom, his embarrassed complaints almost breaking into my trance.

Almost.

Only did I open my eyes when I felt a hand gently shaking my shoulder. Peeking through my right eye, I was shocked to see that the plane was almost completely deserted. It would appear that we had landed.

I nodded at the flight attendant, who left to do another quick sweep of the plane, looking for stragglers such as myself. Slowly, I packed up my laptop and returned the horrific headphones to their compartment. And then I was being hurried out of the plane by a person whose name I didn't even bother learning.

My escort didn't bother trying to make friendly conversation. He struck me as a rather surly young man, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. It was obvious that he had better things to do than guide a quiet eighteen-year-old girl (why did I need an escort, anyways?) around the airport, so after we got through customs I pretended that a middle-aged couple several yards in front of us were my aunt and uncle. He bought my story and turned on his heel the moment I assured him that I'd be fine, power walking back towards the plane without a word of farewell.

Pleasant, that one.

I felt much more comfortable now that I was alone, free to meander about and look for the Weber family at my own pace. I had been informed that the entire family was to be picking me up. I had been shown pictures of each family member, and had a good idea as to what I was looking for. Although, the airport was rather big, and I wasn't entirely sure if I'd be able to find them among the masses of people. Perhaps they would become visible once the majority of the people had cleared out.

Not one to be easily deterred, I continued my search for my temporary family, my sharp eyes combing through the throngs of people that I wandered amongst. Each pair of eyes were focused in the distance, all searching for that familiar face in the crowd.

Suddenly, two young boys ran in front of me. Only seconds later, a girl with brown hair came running after them, calling out names that I immediately recognized from the various pictures my parents had shown me before I'd left.

"Angela?" I called out, causing her to stop in her tracks. She stared at me for a few long moments before realization dawned in her eyes.

"Oh! Alice! ...oh, god, Joshua, Isaac, come back!" She glanced from me, to the retreating forms of her giggling little brothers, and back to me again, her eyes apologetic. "I'm so sorry - wait here. Get _back _here, you two!" she called frustratedly, dashing off into the throng of people.

With an amused grin, I stood on my tip-toes to watch her head bobbing through the mass of people. It was obvious that she was struggling to push her way through the crowd, and I knew that with my tinier size that I could easily slip between people. So, ignoring her instructions to stay put, I darted off into the crowd, lifting my small suitcase off of the ground so that I could go faster. It only took a few seconds to reach her, and when I did I tapped her shoulder.

"Allow me."

When she opened her mouth to protest, I held up a hand to silence her. "I'm smaller than you are. If you'll stay with my suitcase, I can probably catch up to them." I jerked my head in the general direction of the twins. Not waiting for a response, I let go of my bag and ducked under the arms of what appeared to be a reuniting couple. They shouted after me angrily, but I completely blanked them out, my eyes focused on the two tiny boys just a few feet ahead of me.

"Oy!" I yelled, jumping over top of a small pile of backpacks that belonged to god-knows-who. My voice was surprisingly loud and firm, and the suddenness of my words caused both of the boys' concentration on running to lapse for just a moment. That moment was all I needed.

I sprang forward, placing one hand on each of their shoulders. "You shouldn't run away from your sister like that. Come back to her. She's waiting," I said, trying to hide my breathlessness. The pair of nine-year-olds looked down, abashed, allowing me to guide them back to Angela, who waited with a worried and slightly guilty expression.

"Here you go." I gently pushed the twins towards her. She bent down to hug them to her chest, whispering something that I didn't quite catch into their ears. They both nodded, their heads still hanging shamefully. I resisted the urge to laugh at their obvious remorse, having seen the same expression on Cynthia quite some time ago. How easy those days had been... I closed my eyes briefly, trying to dispel my thoughts of longing.

"They got away from my parents, and then we couldn't see them... Alice, you shouldn't have to have done that. Thank you." She smiled appreciatively at me, releasing the twins and straightening up as she did so. "My parents are this way."

After a long pause, she began to walk in the direction that I had seen her come from. I hadn't noticed, but in the time that I had been searching for the Webers and chasing the twins, the crowd had begun to thin out, making the Weber family far easier to spot.

And there they stood. My family.

* * *

The rising sun took my breath away. Dawn was one of the rare times that you could see the sun in Forks, and I was determined to enjoy every last second of it. Staring at the sun, I felt like I wasn't really that far from home after all. The sun was rising in Mississippi just the same as it was here in Washington, and someone, somewhere, was watching it just like I was. What had Cynthia done last night, I wondered? I hoped that she didn't miss me too much.

I very nearly fell off of the window seat in surprise as my uncle's voice broke through the silence. I had forgotten that he left at 4:00AM for work.

"Alice? Is your asthma bothering you?" he asked, glancing from me and to the dresser where my inhaler lay.

My heart stuttering, I hurriedly rearranged my shocked expression into a warm smile. "No, Uncle Josh, my lungs are feeling great. I'm just an insomniac," I explained, my cheeks turning a light pink as I did so. Why did he have to find out that I was different on my first night here? "Thank you for your concern, though," I added hastily, not wanting to appear rude.

He nodded, the concern fading from his face, replaced by a genuine smile. "Alright, then. Let me know if you need anything in the future, okay? I'll be up," he said. And with that, he tromped off down the hallway, his footsteps resounding off of the walls, the only sound in the silent house.

I sighed, wishing for the thousandth time that week that I could just sleep, like a normal person, without any dreams of the future. No matter how useful they could be, I knew that I would have been happier without them. Perhaps if I had lived many a year in the future, I wouldn't be considered insane for my ability.

Scowling at the thought, I slipped off of the seat and tip-toed over to the queen sized bed that Aunt Kathy had ordered only one week earlier. I had tried to pay her for it, but she had assured me that it was no trouble. I had vowed to get a job of some sort and pay her for it someday, whether she was aware of the fact or not.

Taking my sweet time, I unzipped my still-unpacked suitcase and rummaged through my clothes, debating with myself on what to wear. Keep it simple with jeans and a t-shirt ensemble, or something more personalized? I had tons of time to kill, so I ended up making a pros and cons list in my head, and I modeled about twenty different outfits. The choice had been obvious from the beginning, but I had always enjoyed playing dress-up with myself. In the end, I decided to play it safe with the jeans option.

After glancing at the clock, I groaned aloud. Had it really been only thirty minutes? What was I supposed to _do _for the next two hours?

I could try to sleep, I supposed, but I had a terrible feeling that if I closed my eyes I would see things I didn't want to. I _loathed _my precognitive dreams when they came, which was almost every time I slept. It was always either that, or a nightmare these days.

But what else was there to do this early in the morning in a strange house? With a quiet sigh, I moved my suitcase a bit to the left and curled up under the duvet, forcing my eyes shut.

I waited.

When I reopened my eyes, I was no longer in the guest bedroom at the Weber household. No, I recognized the blurriness of the scene around me. I had begun to dream.

_The boy's eyes are a terrifying, vibrant red. He stares blankly ahead of him, not looking at anything in particular. Suddenly, he comes back to earth. Blinking once, pain twists his once-handsome features and he stands, glancing behind him once at a blur behind him. He disappears into the surrounding trees. _

I jerked awake and once the shock of waking so abruptly had worn off, I leaned back into my pillows, sighing and running a hand through my hair. Once more, I had dreamt of the same boy. The dreams were few and far between, but these dreams were always the ones that stuck in my head, front and center. Ever since I was about fifteen, I'd had these dreams of this blonde boy. To this day, I still hadn't a clue who he was or why I dreamt of him.

Refusing to allow myself to think about it too deeply only to be snapped from my trance by my alarm clock, I jumped out of bed, landing awkwardly on the side of my left foot. Cursing under my breath, I snatched my outfit for the day off of the dresser, or, as I would come to call it, _my_ dresser, and hobbled into the guest bathroom, flicking on the lights. It was rather small, but it was nice to have my own bathroom, like I had at home.

It took me a while to figure out the knobs that operated the shower, but once I did I made sure that my shower was quick. Wasting water was _not_ a good way to show that I appreciated the Webers' hospitality. I didn't bother blow drying my short, spiky hair, knowing that it would dry just as quickly on its own. That, and the fact that I had left my blow dryer in my suitcase, and I was sure that it was near the bottom; I didn't feel particularly up to rooting through my things again.

On my way downstairs, I was pleased to notice that I had only spent twenty minutes getting ready. A new personal record.

"Morning, Alice!" Angela greeted cheerily as I entered the kitchen. Well, at least I wasn't the only one up. Now I wouldn't feel as awkward as I rooted through their cupboards in search of cereal.

"Mornin'. Hey, where do you keep the cereal again?" My words came out sounding much less coherent than they had in my head. Seeming not to notice, Angela jumped out of her seat and led me over to a pantry that I had completely overlooked upon arriving at their house. Goes to show how observant I was.

After thanking my helpful housemate, I managed to fill an empty bowl with milk-less Fruit Loops without any further help.

Angela didn't seem to notice my lack of milk or a spoon. Instead, she chatted about Forks High, covering everything from who taught what subject, and to what they served for lunch. I noticed that she avoided the topic of her peers. Obviously, she wasn't the gossipy type. Good. I didn't think I could have stood it if she was one of those girls who was constantly looking for the flaws of others, determined to make herself feel better about who she was by putting others down. I had no firsthand experience with that kind of thing, but I had overheard enough conversations of teenage girls at the mall to get the gist of it all.

"Ready to go?" she asked after I had swallowed my last mouthful of cereal. I nodded slowly, standing up from the chair I had been occupying.

"Yep. Just let me grab my bag." I sprinted upstairs and grabbed my book bag, double and triple checking that I had everything I needed. I did, or at least I had everything that I thought I would need. My books, pencils, pens, highlighters... it was all there.

Taking a deep, calming breath, I hurried back down the stairs and followed Angela out of the front door.


	2. Dreams

**Insomnia**

Chapter 2

My first morning at Forks High flew by. Angela had accompanied me to the office, where I had received my timetable and a map of the school grounds. So far, I had managed to get to all of my classes on time, getting lost only once. My sense of direction was awful - my sister used to tease me mercilessly for checking the maps of our local mall every time that I saw one. After all of our trips there, Cynthia had memorized each and every hallway. I, on the other hand, didn't trust my memory.

Upon entering the cafeteria, I had been waved over to a table that was almost directly in the center of the room. I had hesitated for a moment, searching for a familiar face. Eric Yorkie, a boy from first period Trigonometry, had been easy to spot, his oily hair standing out from the clean hair of the rest of the teenagers he sat with. He sat with Angela, who, after realizing who everyone was waving at, pulled out a chair from next to her and gestured that I sit down. Oh, faithful cousin - where would I be without you?

And so here I sat, being questioned unrelentingly about my life before Forks by the students I hadn't even been properly introduced to yet. I wasn't entirely comfortable being the center of attention of all these strange teenagers, but that's what I had been all day. Everyone seemed to know who I was, though not a single person, excluding Angela, had addressed me as Alice, instead using my proper first name, wretched as it may be.

_Mary_. Ugh.

"So, what was being homeschooled like? Being with your sister 24/7 must have been, like, _really_ annoying." A girl with light brown curls was obviously trying to provoke some sort of in-depth response from me. I was reluctant to give it to her. She seemed like the kind of person who would stab you (literally) for twenty bucks. Then again, I could never be sure. Underneath the hundred pounds of makeup she wore, she could be a nice person.

Or not.

I rolled my eyes, incapable of disguising my annoyance as something else.

"No, actually, it wasn't. My little sister is my best friend. I didn't exactly have many opportunities to befriend people my own age." My defensive response earned me a few funny looks. Angela was the only one who looked like she agreed with me. Deciding to pay no mind to the odd glances people kept shooting at me, I picked up my fork and speared some lettuce onto it with more force than necessary.

"Oh, great, here _they_ come. Do you think that they'll talk to Alice?" A girl with fishy eyes and dirty blonde hair was staring out one of the cafeteria windows.

I turned to see what she was staring at, and I had trouble believing my own eyes. Now entering the cafeteria were the most gorgeous beings that I had ever seen in my entire life. There were four of them, and it was easy to tell that they were all '_together'_. A brunette girl and a bronze-haired boy walked hand in hand, followed closely by a breathtaking blonde and a muscled man who looked far too physically advanced to be in high school.

Well, wasn't _that _a boost for everyone's self-esteem. There was a whole freaking group of runway models attending the school.

My fork dropped out of my hand and I almost choked on my food (how attractive!) as a boy that was all too familiar entered just seconds after the two couples. This was the blonde-haired boy that I'd been dreaming of for the past three years. Something was different about him, though... his eyes. They weren't the frightening blood red that I had always seen in my unconscious state. No, they were an unusual amber color, matching the eyes of the equally gorgeous people who had caught my eye.

I had never before dreamt about someone before I met them, not once. Finally, _finally, _I was going to understand who this boy was and what he had to do with me. Of course, he mightn't have anything to do with me at all. I had experienced visions about completely random things, like what color a girl across the street was going to dye her hair, or where a little boy across town had hidden his older sister's ballet shoe. But why would I dream about him more than once if he was to have no effect on my life?

"Guess not. The stuck up jerks think they're too good for us _normal_ people." Fish-eye flipped a short piece of blonde hair behind her ear, pointedly turning her back to the beautiful group of students. Lost in my own thoughts as I tended to be, I hadn't noticed that they had sat down together at a table in a secluded corner, away from most of the students.

Huh. I didn't understand what the big deal was about their keeping to themselves was - it didn't make them stuck up. Some people just weren't social. I wondered if all girls here made the same petty assumptions about people they didn't know. If so, I was in for a _long _semester.

My eye almost twitched at the thought.

"Who are they, anyways?" I asked, suddenly curious.

The curly haired girl rolled her eyes and said, "The Cullens. At least, that's what they go by. The blondes are Jasper and Rosalie Hale. They're fraternal twins."

Jasper. His name was _Jasper_. It suited him, I thought. It was nice to finally be able to attach a name to his face.

"The bronze-haired one is Edward Cullen. He's with Isabella Swan, the brunette. The muscled one is Emmett Cullen, and he's with Rosalie. I don't even think it's even legal for them to be together, but whatever," she said, brushing her momentary concern away. "If they get arrested for incest, it's not _my_ problem. They were all adopted by Dr. Carlisle Cullen and his wife Esme. They went crazy with adoptions, because I don't think Mrs. Cullen can have any kids of her own. Rosalie and Jasper are Dr. Cullen's niece and nephew, so they were kind of forced to adopt them, I guess, because their parents died in a car crash or something."

"That's kind of them, taking on so many kids. It must be hard for Dr. and Mrs. Cullen sometimes, what with a houseful of teenagers and all," I said, admiration for the faceless parents of the Cullen family swelling up inside me.

Fish-eye snorted loudly. "Hardly! They're all like, straight A students, and they never get into any trouble. I'd say that they're a little _too_ perfect."

I chose to ignore her jibe at the family as a whole, instead chancing a glance at them out of the corner of my eye. Well, in truth, I was really seeking out Jasper; how often was it that someone you'd seen so often in your dreams just appeared at your high school?

The entire family sat without moving, their backs stiff. Each and every pair of eyes was fixated on me. I gulped, a blush creeping to my cheeks. It was almost as if they could hear my thoughts, which I would definitely rather them _not_. I had a lot of things I'd like to keep to myself.

They all looked away except the one named Edward, who removed his gaze from me only when Isabella leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Shaking myself, I turned back to Angela's group of friends, almost wincing as I realized that they were all staring at me.

The curly-haired brunette was the first to speak. "Don't waste your time on Jasper. Apparently no one _here_ is good enough for him," she sniffed in disdain, tossing her hair over her shoulders. I guessed that she had been rejected by him, perhaps multiple times, judging by the undertone of rejection in her voice.

I rolled my eyes again, annoyed with her assumptions. As if I would even think about that kind of thing on my first day at Forks High. I wanted get my feet on the ground before I even _considered_ dating. Not that someone like me would ever wind up with Jasper, seeing as I was short, boring and labeled as insane by my own parents, and he was... what was he, besides inhumanly gorgeous? They all were. I wasn't one to judge, anyways. For all I knew, he could be a total jerk. But could a jerk feel the same amount of guilt that he had in my vision? I didn't think so. He had to have _some_ sort of sensitivity inside of him.

"Wasn't planning on it," I replied drily, standing from my chair. "Well, I'm going to start heading to Biology. I don't want to be late if I end up getting lost on the way."

With that, I skipped over to the garbage bin and dumped the remnants of my lunch into it, suddenly cheerful now that I was on my way to a place where I would be away from the prying eyes of my peers, if only for a few minutes.

With my nose only centimeters away from my map, I slowly made my way towards building 4, glancing up every now and again to make sure that I wasn't about to ram into a pole. I made it all the way to building 3 successfully enough, and when I stopped to hitch my bag further up on my shoulder, my map was suddenly tugged from my hand by the wind. Groaning, I ran after it, following it for only a few moments before it landed in a puddle in front of building 6.

"Crap," I spat, turning on my heel and beginning to walk towards the closest building. According to the large number on said building, it was building 7. So I was walking in the wrong direction. Big deal. I spun myself to face in the opposite direction, suddenly worried about being late. I had only left the cafeteria a few minutes before the bell... Oh no, I couldn't be late for my first Biology class. It wouldn't do for me to make a bad first impression with my Biology teacher. So far I had managed to charm all of my teachers with my wide, innocent blue eyes and childish face, but you never knew what reactions you would get.

I was nearing building 4. Thank _god_. Sighing in relief, I glanced at my watch and saw that I still had about seven minutes before the bell was to ring. Apparently I hadn't left as late as I thought I had.

Taking a seat on the picnic bench that was set up outside of the building, I pulled out my sketchbook and opened it to a fresh page. I had my sketching pencil jammed into the binding, and after I had arranged myself comfortably I pulled it out and held it just millimeters away from the blank paper.

Again and again last night's dream forced it's way to the front of my mind. Eventually, I sighed, finally succumbing to my own desires and beginning to sketch the outline of the face that was all too familiar to me. Jasper's.

My watch beeped, signifying the beginning of a new hour. I realized that I didn't have much time left. Hastily, I shoved my sketchbook into my bag, hoping that no one had seen what I had been drawing. I didn't really want people to assume that I was one of those creepily infatuated girls you saw fangirling over their romance novels. I wasn't infatuated, not even close. I was just _interested_ in this boy. _Totally _not my fault.

Instead of my stress having eased after drawing as it usually did, I realized sullenly, it instead increased in magnitude. Great. Now I was going to freeze up when I spoke to Mr. Banner, I just knew it.

Grimacing, I rubbed my temples, squeezing my eyes shut. I must have looked like I was in some sort of terrible pain, but in reality I was trying to shut out all of my emotions. I was usually pretty good at doing this, making myself go numb, but not today. Everything I felt lately seemed to intensify over time instead of dulling.

Fan_tastic._

Eventually other students began to arrive at building 4, and the blue-eyed boy from lunch sat down next to me on the bench and began chattering away, mentioning once that his name was Mike Newton. He seemed friendly enough, better than the girls from lunch. He yammered on about what we were currently doing in Biology, obviously trying to be helpful. It was nice to know that I wouldn't have to work hard to catch up after all - I had already covered this unit at home. I smiled and nodded as he struggled to explain the unit, allowing him to think that he was doing me a favor instead of boring me out of my mind.

Shortly after Mike wrapped up his lecture, those lingering outside began heading into the Biology lab. I rearranged my expression into one of bashfulness as we entered the room, knowing how well that act had worked with the other teachers. Mr. Banner smiled warmly at me and extended a hand, obviously intending for me to shake it. I did, introducing myself as Alice Brandon, not giving him the chance to call me Mary.

"Well, Alice, welcome to Forks High. The only open seat is just over here, next to Mr. Hale." He led me over to the vacant chair next to Jasper. So _that_ was why he had been so clear in my dream. I would be spending the rest of the year sitting next to him. I felt a pang of disappointment, even though I knew it had been silly of me to hope that it meant anything else. Well, at least I had a chance of learning what was bothering him, since we would be lab partners. I would have to speak to him at _some_ point.

Carefully, I placed my bag on the floor next to me, making sure that I didn't kick it over as I sat down as I had a tendency to do.

Mr. Banner prattled on about things that I had learned in early August, seeing as my homeschooling schedule was different from that of the public school student. Boredom, here I come!

My eyelids felt heavy, my lack of sleep finally catching up with me. Forcing myself not to yawn, I rested my head on my arm and allowed my eyes to droop. I knew the bell would wake me, or even the approaching footsteps of Mr. Banner, seeing as I was such a light sleeper. _Anything_ could wake me up.

But of course, it was foolish of me to think that I could sleep dreamlessly, and I was once again thrown into one of my visions that masqueraded as dreams. Did they crop up in life explicitly to annoy me? Sometimes I wondered.

And so, once more, I dreamt of Jasper Hale.


	3. Savior

**Insomnia**

Chapter 3

I chuckled to myself as I watched my little cousins running around the backyard, seemingly oblivious to the rain that sprinkled down on them. Aunt Kathy had returned home with a football that she had picked up from the little outdoors' store that the Newton family ran. It was amazing what happiness such a simple gesture could bring. I remembered doing the same kind of thing for Cynthia when she could be easily pleased by such small things, like a gumball from the convenience store.

Turning my attention away from the window, I tried to focus on my Trigonometry homework, though it was proving impossible to think of anything but my family. I knew that I was only making myself miserable by thinking of my old life in Biloxi, but I couldn't seem get it off my mind when I wanted to the most.

With a sigh, I closed my notebook and shoved it back into my bag. I would finish it later, when I wasn't as preoccupied.

Maybe a walk would clear my mind. I grabbed my jacket on my way out of the guest bedroom, calling to the my aunt that I was off for a walk, and that I would be back before it got too dark outside. She poked her head out of the kitchen and bade me farewell, telling me that the front door would be unlocked.

By the time I realized that I didn't have an umbrella, it was too late for me to go back inside without looking like an idiot. Ah well. The rain could do me some good, I supposed.

The rain fell harder, and within seconds I was drenched, my once-spiky hair plastered to the side of my face. I gritted my teeth in irritation, but otherwise tried to ignore the fact that it my hair was getting in my eyes, and I could hardly see through the pouring rain.

I wondered what Cynthia was up to these days. Had she made any new friends? Better ones than me? I wouldn't know, because I hadn't had any sort of communication with her since I'd left. I didn't think I'd even started up my Macbook since I got off the plane in Seattle. I had isolated myself from my family completely; speaking it would only make me wish I could go back, despite the fact that my parents were convinced that I was insane.

My appointments with Dr. Campbell weren't scheduled to start for another month. My parents had wanted to give me time to 'get on my feet'. Like they cared. I had actually been surprised when they told me of the arrangements - I had assumed that they would want my treatment to start as soon as possible. They wanted _both_ of their daughters to be normal, whatever normal may be. Of course, that wouldn't be possible for me unless I never slept again, which I was dangerously close to accomplishing.

Scowling, I glanced up from the ground, and I was suddenly hit with the realization that I had walked much farther than I had intended to. That, and I had absolutely no clue where I was. I should have known better than to go walking in an unfamiliar town, small as it may be, especially when I had absolutely no sense of direction. What a great way to start off my stay in Forks. Ten days in, and I was already lost. This was like a sick spinoff of Alice in Wonderland, except this time Alice didn't get lost in Wonderland - far from it. She got lost in her own thoughts. _Again. _I really needed to invest in a portable GPS, or at least a map. Or perhaps a shock collar that went off every time my mind wandered.

I had always been told that if I got lost, I should stay in the same spot. That would prove very difficult today, seeing as it was pouring rain, and I would probably freeze if I stood still for more than three minutes at a time.

Sucking in a deep breath, I forced myself not to panic. I would find my way back - I always did. Wandering aimlessly was my specialty. Spinning around on my heel, I stalked off in the opposite direction I had been heading in, trying to remember which road I had come up from, but it was hopeless. I hadn't been paying attention to the names of the streets I had been walking along only minutes earlier.

A few minutes of walking later, I came across a fork in the road. I didn't recall seeing _that_. Wonderful. Now I had to head back up the road and take the one I had decided against taking. I wanted to hit myself for being so stupid. Instead, I kicked a small pebble with as much ferocity as I could, my intense desire to attack things easing slightly.

It was official. I had managed to get even _more_ lost instead of finding my way back. Everything looked the same here in Forks - green. Much, _much_ too green.

I spotted a large rock up ahead that I could sit on until my family came looking for me, or until the rain cleared up and I could see properly. I sat for a few minutes, shivering. Had it gotten colder, or was it just me?

My teeth chattering, I pulled my coat tighter around me, the material making a squelching sound as a bucketload of water oozed out. Why had I worn this jacket, anyways? Why oh why hadn't I worn my actual rain jacket? I was a horrible psychic if I couldn't even foresee this torrential downpour that was sure to be my demise. At least the air wasn't cold. Just the rain. That eliminated the potential of me having an asthma attack.

The thought did not cheer me in the slightest. I wasn't sure that anything would cheer me up right now - only the world's most extreme optimist would have been able to see the bright side of this situation. (What was there to be happy about - the fact that the plants were getting a drink? Ha, ha.)

Of course, just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, a car came speeding around the corner and drove right through the puddle my perch happened to be next to, sending the water up in one freezing cold wave that decided it would be fun to crash down on my already soaking wet form. So, I suppose it didn't make much of a difference.

Either way, I was in _no _mood to be splashed by random people and their cars.

"Watch where you're driving, jerk!" I yelled, jumping up from the rock and throwing my arms into the air angrily. I knew that whoever was inside wouldn't have heard me, but the shouting made me feel a little better.

It was much to my annoyance to see the headlights of a car coming down the road. Had the driver from before come back to splash me again? I was relieved when I realized that it wasn't the same car, instead a much fancier, shinier blue one. A Jaguar, maybe? I couldn't tell with the rain impairing my vision.

The car pulled up beside me, the driver's window rolling down.

"Alice, what are you doing out here?"

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks as I realized that it was Jasper Hale who had found me in this state. Despite my disheveled state, I was determined to try and retain what little dignity I had left.

"Oh, I've been enjoying this lovely weather. You know, sitting and freezing on rocks is a hobby of mine." I rolled my eyes.

Jasper laughed quietly as he picked up on my mood. I glared murderously at him. What gave him the right to completely ignore me every single Biology class, and then _laugh _at me when he finds me stranded on a rock? I knew I wasn't being entirely fair to him, seeing as I had been just as silent as he was, but I wasn't really feeling up to being fair.

He frowned as he observed my appearance. I probably looked like a half-drowned cat, but I didn't care. Not everyone could look like a supermodel.

"You really shouldn't be outside. You could get pneumonia or something," he said.

"I'm aware of that. I _would_ have gotten to shelter by now, except for the fact that I don't know my way around Forks, and I have the sense of direction of a _rock_. Oh, and not to mention I can't see six inches in front of me. You're not exactly being helpful by sitting inside your warm, dry car, laughing at me," I replied frostily, folding my arms across my chest.

His mildly amused expression returned. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm being impolite. Would you like a ride home?"

I glowered at him, not replying, though I wasn't sure he could see my expression through the rain. _Yes_, I would have liked a ride back to the Webers' house, but I was sure that I'd be able to find my way home... eventually. His offer was tempting, but I didn't want to allow myself to get too comfortable around him, only to have him go back to ignoring me. My curiosity about him might become unbearable once again, for what I felt like would be the thousandth time in my life. In my desperation, I had even tried to take cough medicine to force myself to sleep one night, hoping for some sort of clue as to what was going to cause this boy so much pain. Did the fact he was going to be in pain directly affect me? No. Did I care, for no apparent reason? Yes.

Oh no, not again. My irritation started to melt away as I remembered his distraught expression. Curse him.

Sufficiently softened, I shook my head half-heartedly, though what I really wanted was to get into the car and talk to him, maybe putting my mind at rest. Whatever I wanted, I didn't want to be an inconvenience - I was already burdening the Webers with my presence. I didn't want to bug the Cullens too. Not that I would see the rest of them, but surely Jasper would complain to them that I had gotten his car all wet later, once he realized what a waste of time I was.

"Get in the car, Alice," he sighed, reaching over to open the passenger door.

"You're not giving me a choice, are you?" I realized.

Jasper shook his head, a faint smile appearing on his face. "Not really."

I grumbled unintelligibly under my breath, but stomped around to the other side of the car and slid inside, my boots squeaking as they moved.

"So, why are you driving me home, anyways?" I asked after a short silence. He turned to look at me, which worried me slightly, seeing as he was already traveling at eighty miles per hour. I said nothing - it was his problem if he wrapped his car around a tree. Of course, if we died, _then_ it would be my problem, but I trusted - or hoped - that he would pull over if it got dangerous, so I didn't let that thought bother me for too long.

"Because you would never have made it home otherwise," he replied simply.

"What, are you psychic now or something?" Hardly. That was _my_ area of expertise.

Jasper chuckled. "No, I'm just perceptive. Now, where am I dropping you off?"

That was one thing I did know. Proud of myself, I gave him their address, apologizing for not knowing how exactly to get there. He grinned and assured me that it was no trouble, saying that he knew Forks inside and out. I congratulated him, sarcastically of course. What was it with me and sarcasm tonight? I assumed it had something to do with me being soaked to my core, and freezing cold. I had noticed that the heat was turned up full blast, and yet I was somehow still shaking.

Sighing, I turned away from my saviour and gazed out the window. I couldn't see anything, and I was quite surprised that Jasper hadn't swerved off of the road and into the forest we drove alongside, for there was no way he could see the road.

"I'm sorry that I'm being so miserable - I'm not usually like this, honest," I said abruptly, turning back to gaze at Jasper with wide, apologetic eyes. He nodded slowly, gazing back at me.

"You haven't been miserable," he corrected me, his eyes sincere. I opened my mouth to object, but I found myself suddenly feeling agreeable. My jaw snapped shut.

I fiddled with a button on my jacket until the car came to a sudden halt. We couldn't be back already, could we? But then again, he drove like a maniac, far above the speed limit, so he had probably cut the time in half.

I clambered out of the car, turning to face him, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude, for I realized that I would still be sitting on that stupid rock, waiting for the Webers to notice my prolonged absence had it not been for him.

"Thank you for the ride, Jasper. You didn't have to do that." I paused, glancing at the seat I had risen from. "And sorry about your car seat... it's soaked. Let me know when the funeral is. I'll prepare a speech." Despite my casual apology, I felt blood rush to my face in embarrassment. Jasper stiffened slightly, probably taking notice of the state of his expensive leather seat. But he shook his head all the same, his smile seeming a little forced.

"I'm sure that it will survive. See you at school, Alice," he said, pulling away at an alarming speed.

"Bye," I said to no one in particular, too late to direct my words at Jasper. Eventually, I turned and silently trudged into the Weber household, vowing never to speak of this particular embarrassing excursion to anyone. Note to self: get a town map before you go out on your own. After all, I mightn't be as lucky next time. Not everyone was as kind-hearted as Jasper seemed to be. Next time I might end up lost for hours on end. I could only pray that there would never _be_ a next time.

I went straight up the the guest bedroom once I got inside and peeled off my clothes, replacing them quickly with the warmest pajamas I owned. I was positively _freezing._ The Webers didn't have the heat on, because, to them, it probably wasn't cold. To me, soaking wet and shivering, it was like standing in the middle of a blizzard wearing only a bikini.

After I had rubbed my hair dry with a towel from the bathroom, I shuffled over to my bed and buried myself under the covers, covering even my head. It did me no good, for my teeth were still chattering after a good twenty minutes.

Scowling in my discomfort, I tossed the blankets off of me and stiffly made my way downstairs to ask if I could possibly be lent a heater of sorts. Aunt Kathy took one look at me and immediately began fussing over me, taking my temperature and forcing me to go back to bed, setting up the heater right next to the bed. My temperature couldn't have been good, for she insisted that I stay home from school the next day. I tried to protest, but she merely shook her head, silencing me.

"No, you need to rest. I think you might have caught a cold. I was worried when I saw how hard it was raining. Was everything alright?" she demanded, genuinely concerned for my well-being. I nodded, taking care not to mention Jasper's unexpected appearance.

My aunt looked at me for a few long moments before deciding that I would survive and bustling off. I found my eyelids drooping, and for once I felt as though I could actually fall asleep. A vision - a nightmare_, _even -would have been welcomed so long as it meant _rest_.

For the first time in days, sleep claimed me.


	4. Perceptive

**Insomnia**

Chapter 4

By Friday my temperature had gone down, and Aunt Kathy had deemed me healthy enough to attend school. It had taken almost all of my self-restraint not to dance in circles, squealing in a fashion similar to Joshua and Isaac. It was ridiculous to be so excited to see a boy I had only had one conversation with, in which I had been rather awful, at that, but I couldn't help it. Now that I had spoken to him, I wanted to speak to him again, and again, and again, until I finally figured him out.

I mean, how else was I supposed to react to finally having spoken to a boy I'd quite literally been dreaming of for years?

I got ready in a flurry, practically throwing on my clothes and flying down the stairs. I very nearly skipped breakfast, but I knew that I would only regret it later. I somehow managed to force a Nutri-Grain bar down my throat, along with a glass of orange juice. Otherwise, I couldn't sit still long enough to do anything productive. I had finished all of my homework yesterday, having been confined to my bed by my mama-bear aunt. ("You'll never recover if you strain yourself. Try to stay in bed today, sweetie." It hadn't been a suggestion, more of a sugar-coated command. But she meant well, so I had done as I had been told.)

"Alice, you look like you're going to explode," Angela had commented, highly amused with my constant fidgeting.

"Do I?" I had responded absently, my eyes focused on things yet to come. Jasper would be there today. And he would speak to me. So I wasn't an entirely lost cause after all. I hadn't scared him off... yet. I hadn't been able to tell how our conversation would go, but I could only hope that it would be better than the one we had been thrown into the other night. Or, rather, _I_ had been thrown into by Jasper himself.

So, naturally, when we entered the cafeteria for lunch that day, my high spirits deteriorated when I realized that he wasn't there. His four siblings all sat at their usual table, but there was no sign of him anywhere. That was the first time my dreams had been wrong. I stared at my tray, deep in thought, wondering what had gone wrong with my visions. I hadn't known they _could _be wrong.

Only did I look up when the curly-haired girl, whose name I had discovered to be Jessica Stanley, giggled rather loudly.

"I wonder why Jasper Hale is sitting by himself today? Oh, my god, he's looking over here!" She shook her hair around her face self-consciously and peeked sideways at me. "You don't think...?" She trailed off in wonder, still staring at me. I wasn't paying attention to her anymore, instead my eyes sweeping the room full of high school students, looking hopefully for the blonde boy who had, to put it dramatically, saved me from my watery grave.

And there he sat, alone, in all his glory. My grin instantly reappeared, and I went to look away, satisfied, but he lifted a pale hand and beckoned me over. I felt my eyebrows pull together in confusion.

He smiled once he got my full attention and gestured to a chair across from him.

My entire table had gone silent. I blushed, looking at my feet as I wound my way through the throngs of starving teenagers. It was hard not to notice that many eyes had turned to watch me make the journey to the empty table that Jasper inhabited.

"Want to sit with me today?" His voice held an undertone of uncertainty; he was leaving me a choice this time.

"Oh, do I get a say in things this time? No 'get in the chair, Alice'?" I teased, sitting down across from him, curling my one leg beneath me. "I owe you. You saved me from pneumonia," I said eventually, finally looking up at him. He chuckled, though his expression changed when he took notice of my pale skin. I still looked sick, I knew.

"You still got sick, though. You're pale," Jasper pointed out. I shrugged, watching as his mouth twisted down in a frown. He looked as though he blamed himself. I resisted the urge to spring up from my seat and comfort him, somehow. I had never been any good at comforting people, never knowing what to say.

Especially not in this situation. What could I say? _"Don't feel guilty. You'll look something like this in the future, I've seen it. Don't do that to yourself. I don't know _why_ you'll do it, but I don't think you deserve that kind of guilt and remorse."_ Yeah, _that_ would go over well. He would probably run away screaming. Or, even worse, he wouldn't believe me.

He was still staring at me, probably watching my emotions flash across my face. Another thing I was terrible at: hiding my emotions. I'd always been a very exuberant person, feeling things more intensely than I should. If I was excited, I was _really_ excited. I would bounce, and squeal, and dance, finding it impossible to sit still. Only when I was upset could I control myself, long enough for me to find a private place to break down.

I was upset now. I knew that I could only go so long trying to work out what was going to happen to Jasper in the future without saying anything, and that when I finally did lose it that it wouldn't be pretty. I could remember the last time I lost it, blurting out all of the things I'd kept pent up for _years. _If I ever let slip about my visions again... I shuddered.

"Are you okay, Alice?" Jasper asked, his words breaking into my thoughts.

Great, he'd noticed. He was just as perceptive as he had claimed to be. I grimaced.

"I... yeah." I looked away from him, trying to repress the emotions that came flooding into me, ones I had been ignoring up until now. Bitterness, hatred, depression, longing, abandonment... If I ever told anyone about my premonitions again, I didn't know what the consequences would be. No one would speak to me, or maybe I would be mocked relentlessly by my peers. I couldn't risk driving away this boy, not after so long.

My emotions couldn't be kept at bay for much longer. Taking a deep breath, I stood from my chair, avoiding looking at him.

"I'm sorry, I..." What was I supposed to tell him? That my parents abandoned me, forcing me away from my little sister, the person I loved the most in the world, and into this strange town, just so that I could get treatment from the best shrink they could find in America? They hadn't even given me a chance to explain to them. They hadn't tried to understand that I was perfectly sane.

Why did it have to hit me full force _now_, of all times? Jasper was going to think that I was a bipolar freak.

Without finishing my apology, I slipped out of the cafeteria, fighting the tears budding in my eyes. I couldn't cry, not until I was sure that I was alone. I could feel the breakdown that I had been trying so hard not to have coming on. Why couldn't this have happened yesterday as I sat on that stupid, cold rock? It would have been impossible to tell that I had been crying, because the rain would have blended in with the tears. I had the worst timing ever. He was sure to be frightened by now, probably assuming that I was one of those overemotional, needy girls who would blame all of my problems on him.

_Way to go, Alice. You've pushed everyone you remotely care about away from you. Cynthia, your parents, and now Jasper, who you barely even knew in the first place,_ a small, nasty part of my mind taunted me. The more rational part of me knew perfectly well that my parents had pushed _me_ away, instead of the other way around, but I couldn't help but wonder where I'd be now if I'd just kept my mouth shut. Perhaps enjoying a Friday afternoon off, shopping with Cynthia, or maybe watching a movie at home, snuggled up on the couch in my pajamas.

It hurt to think about the possibilities. Why hadn't I seen this coming? Why did I never see anything _important_ anymore? I was a failure, to myself, to everyone. I'd never be able to prevent whatever was going to hurt Jasper from happening, now that he had seen me like _this, _he would probably be afraid to speak to me again.

Taking yet another shaky breath, I threw open the girls' washroom's door, positive that I still had another good half an hour before anyone would leave for class. I should be safely alone in here.

I was trembling uncontrollably as I slid down the wall farthest from the door. Letting out a broken sob, I threw my head in my hands, allowing my despair to consume me. Had it really been today that I was so excited, so bouncy, so sure? It felt like a lifetime away. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

What would I do if someone walked in on me? It was bound to happen. I would lose track of time, or someone would get up to use the bathroom at the most inconvenient time possible. I was losing control of myself, and fast.

The tears I had been trying so hard to force away rolled down my cheek when I closed my eyes. I could wipe them away, but more were falling, much faster than I would be able to dry the others. It would be pointless.

It didn't matter, anyways. No one would ask me what was wrong with me, the common assumption would probably be that Jasper rejected me, or something along those lines. Had I not been so upset, I would've scoffed at the idea of someone like _me_ even _considering_ being more than an acquaintance to someone like _him_. He deserved someone much more beautiful, more stable than I was. I was sure whoever would start the rumor would agree with me, thinking themselves far more worthy. I had learned to assume as much from watching high school soap operas, and the interpretations of girls my age weren't too far off, judging by what I had observed so far.

When the door creaked open, I was not surprised.

What surprised me was the familiar masculine voice that came from the person who had intruded upon my pity-party.

"I'm sorry to barge in here, it's not proper, but..."

My desire to crawl under a rock and never be seen again intensified as I recognized the owner of the voice. Jasper. I had left the cafeteria specifically so that he _wouldn't_ be forced to watch me break down like this. But now there was no hope in hiding from him now, from anyone who walked in. My face was very likely stained with tears, and I was still trembling uncontrollably. For several seconds, I tried to control the tremors, but it proved to be impossible.

Biting my lip to prevent any sound from escaping me, I lifted my head and rested my chin on my knees, not bothering to wipe away my tears. I had already tried to hide my emotions today, and that hadn't exactly gone well. It was pointless, now, anyways. It would accomplish nothing to wipe away my tears, or to act like I was completely fine. I was sitting on a disgusting bathroom floor, curled into a ball. Only a total moron would have believed I was fine.

Jasper stood uncertainly in the doorway, one of his pale hands still on the doorknob. He stared at me for a few moments. I wondered if he expected me to respond. He didn't look like he was waiting for an answer, he looked more like he was debating as to what to do next. His topaz eyes dulled with a quiet sadness. For a brief moment my own feelings were forgotten, and I desperately wanted to find a way to erase the pain in his eyes.

In the silence, I had almost forgotten that we had the ability to speak. His voice startled me, but not enough to make me jump.

"Is this my fault?" he asked, anger flashing across his face. Anger at who? It took me a few moments to understand his words, and, in turn, his emotions.

He thought that he'd done something wrong. Had I been in any other situation, I would have laughed aloud. Now, my face remained serious.

"Of course not," I replied, my voice scratchy. I sounded almost as bad as I felt. He didn't look entirely convinced, and I very nearly elaborated on the situation, until I remembered why I was here in the first place. Where had explaining things gotten me? Shipped off to a tiny, rainy town to live with family I hadn't seen in years.

He still didn't move. The look in his eyes didn't fade. My heart ached for him, making me feel more helpless than I had ever felt before. I hardly knew this boy, after all. There was absolutely nothing I could do to comfort him.

"I can go, if you'd like." He was already turning to go out the door. My own reaction shocked me.

"No!" I practically shouted, hopping up from the ground in my moment of panic, my hand outstretched. Several more tears slipped down my cheeks, despite my best efforts to stem their flow. My hand fell limply back to my side, useless.

Why did he always have to find me like this? First, he drives up to find me stranded in the middle of Forks, soaking wet and freezing, and now _this._ He probably thought I was a lunatic, a lost cause. But if he thought I was a lost cause, why would he bother with me in the first place? I tried to squash the hope, to tell myself that I was being foolish, but my attempts were in vain. I should have known that they would be - when had I _ever_ been to control myself?

Slowly, hesitantly, Jasper crossed the room and pulled me to the floor again. I was sitting next to him now, though I wasn't quite touching him, it was closer than I had ever been to him before. Instead of wanting to move away, I found myself wanting to close those two inches between us. Sucking in a deep, shaky breath, I forced myself to stay put. My body obeyed, for which I was immensely thankful. I didn't want him to interpret the gesture wrongly.

"What happened, Alice?" Jasper asked gently, leaning forwards so that he could look me in the eyes.

I grimaced, taking a few moments to make sure that I was calm enough to form a coherent sentence.

"It's a long story," I muttered, watching his expression turn to one of confusion. He probably wondered what I was so reluctant to talk about. What could I tell him, anyways? That my parents had practically disowned me, dumping my little psychic self onto the first family that they could find? Hardly.

"I've got time." He was patient, not pressing for a response.

"You don't want to hear it," I said quietly, turning my head into my knees and allowing myself to shed a few more tears. I didn't want to frighten him off with my story, to give him any reason to think I was insane. It was hard, trying to be truthful and wanting to appear normal. A balancing act, almost.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. What's the point?" I blurted out, before I had even had time to consider the consequences. I hardly ever did, anyways, preferring to live in the moment. It was easier for me as a psychic to say that, of course. It made things easier for me, knowing that everything would work out in the end... for the most part, anyways.

Jasper's cool fingers were suddenly touching my chin, gently turning my head back towards him. I wished he wouldn't draw back - his touch offered some illusion of reassurance.

"You'd be pretty surprised at what I'd believe," he told me, his mouth quirking.

"Would you believe me if I said that aliens were going to invade the earth on Tuesday?" I joked.

He shrugged. "I've heard of stranger things happening around here. So, I guess I would believe you, if you meant it, but I figure I'm right to assume that aliens invading the earth isn't what's upsetting you?"

I nodded, though reluctantly. "Yes, you're right to assume that."

Jasper could tell that I wasn't going to continue. "And you have every right to wish to keep your secrets," he sighed, looking wistful. And then, as quickly as I could blink, a lopsided smile had appeared on his face, and he was standing in front of me, his hand outstretched.

"I believe we've got a class to attend," he said. I gratefully took his hand and allowed myself to be hoisted to my feet, feeling extremely small and insignificant compared to him. Moreso than usual, that is; he had to be over six feet tall, while I was just under five.

Smiling, I did my best to imitate his formality. "Shall we?" I asked in a terrible British accent, still hanging onto his hand. All of my previous sorrows had been forgotten, all of my attention captivated by this blonde boy who fascinated me so. In that instant, I was my happy-go-lucky self again, the person that I had been all those years ago.

"Indubitably." His accent was far better than mine, but I was thrilled that he was going along with my charade.

Still grinning, I followed Jasper out of the bathroom, trying to mask my surprise when he held the door open for me. As we exited, I gulped in deep breaths of fresh air, and all I could think about was how relieved I was to get away from the putrid smell of the girls' washroom.


	5. Secrets

**Insomnia**

Chapter 5

We were the first ones to arrive at building 4, which probably had to do with the fact that we had left the cafeteria merely minutes into the lunch hour. I guessed I had time to finish the sketch I'd started yesterday.

Humming happily to myself, I skipped over to the very same picnic bench I had sat on during my first day of school and pulled out my sketchbook, flipping it open to the page I needed. It wasn't of anything particularly interesting, merely a large clearing that I assumed was in one of the nearby forests. I had dreamt of it in one of my brief periods of sleep, and I hadn't been able resist drawing it because it struck me as so unusual. Some of the grass was flattened in a shape that somewhat represented a baseball diamond, but I hadn't dwelt on that too long. Someone had probably made a failed attempt at a crop circle, which would be easy to do, seeing as there were no crops to _make_ the crop circle.

As easily lost in my own world as I was, I had forgotten that Jasper was with me.

"You're a very talented artist," he commented, peering over my shoulder.

I blushed, suddenly wishing that I had long hair to shake in front of my face. "Thanks," I mumbled. No need to mention that the thing I specialized in was drawing him_._ I usually just drew my visions, and so far my dreams here in Forks had more or less revolved around him. About four pages of my book were taken up by pictures of Jasper with his unusual red eyes, and only one of him looking the way he did now, golden eyes and all. That would be sure to frighten him off. He was too interesting for his own good.

"What do you usually draw?" Jasper was now sitting across from me, his eyes focused on my face. I smiled coyly, knowing I could tell the truth, but withhold it at the same time.

"Whatever I dream of, normally." I shrugged.

He nodded, his eyebrows knitting together as he picked up on my mood. I bit my lip to prevent myself from laughing under my breath at his confusion as I turned back to my sketch.

Jasper watched intently, as though me drawing was the most fascinating thing in the world. He did not look away when other students began to arrive, all staring at us curiously, probably having expected us to be standing as far away from each other as possible, not sitting together at a table, both engrossed in my sketching. Several of them pointed and muttered under their breath. I did my best to tune them out.

Only did Jasper look up when his siblings, Rosalie and Emmett, arrived. I snapped my sketchbook shut, knowing that if the rest of the Cullen seniors had arrived, class would be starting soon. They never arrived any earlier than two minutes before class started.

I sloppily packed up my things and hurried inside, closely followed by Jasper. I always spent the minutes remaining before class outside, usually alone, preferring the silence and fresh air to the noisiness and stale air inside the lab. Today I didn't dread it as much, seeing as I was now on speaking terms with my lab partner.

I wondered how long it would be before we went back to ignoring each other. I never counted on anything to stay in my life for any long period of time - to me, everything was temporary, disposable, in a way.

The lesson proved to be exceptionally boring, and I soon found myself yawning. How could I possibly be tired? I'd slept for more than half of yesterday, and all through the night. The strange part was, I _wasn't _tired, or any more tired than the average teenager usually was; my system was just shutting down on me.

I fought against it, but, despite my best efforts, my eyelids began to droop and I could barely keep my head up.

"Alice, go to sleep. I'll wake you up if I've got to," Jasper murmured, having observed my exhaustion. I hesitated a moment, but it soon became apparent that there was no way that I would be able to remain conscious for the entirety of this class. I had to trust that Jasper would keep true to his word and would wake me up if the bell rang or the teacher called on me, providing I didn't wake up on my own.

Within moments of resting my head on the desk and closing my eyes, a dream began to unfold.

_A girl, small, but not smaller than Alice, sits on a pathway, a long gash in her arm visible, blood beginning to pool around her on the ground. She is staring at her arm, seemingly paralyzed with shock, sitting a few feet away from building 7. There are large shards of glass surrounding her. A tall figure can be seen in the distance, though he doesn't seem to have noticed the girl yet. He continues forwards, still oblivious. The wind blows gently in his direction, and he stiffens, his eyes darkening, nostrils flaring. Suddenly, he is crouching beside the girl, his eyes filled with an unspoken hunger._

The scene faded into darkness for a moment before reappearing.

_The boy's eyes are a bright, bloody red. A moment passes before understanding dawns in his eyes and he stands, his expression horrified. A single speck of blood dots his shirt as he disappears into the woods._

I jerked awake, glancing around me. I was still in Biology, not at the scene of the girl's death. My heart did not pound in fear, and I did not breathe quickly. I was completely calm, much to my surprise. Why wasn't I scared? Panicking, even? Sitting this close to Jasper - who I now recognized from the dream - should terrify me, but it didn't. He didn't seem like a cold-blooded murderer. No, he _wasn't_ a cold-blooded murderer. A murderer wouldn't have looked horrified at what they'd done. It hadn't looked like he'd meant to do anything - almost like an instinctual reaction. But to _what?_

Instead of sitting paralyzed by fear in my seat, I replayed the vision in my mind, noticing that Jasper was clad today in the same clothes he had been in my vision. So it was to happen today, I assumed. I could prevent it, I _knew_ I could. If only I could get there before Jasper did...

Sucking in a deep breath, I turned to Jasper and forced myself to smile reassuringly. He had obviously noticed my sudden awakening.

"Do yourself a favor and don't walk by building 7 today," I said slowly, willing my voice not to shake, as the unwanted emotion of nervousness had decided to make its grand appearance.

He nodded, looking confused. Despite the fact that he had been warned, I would skip as many classes as necessary in order to ensure the survival of this girl, to save Jasper the horror of murder.

To an outsider looking into my mind, I must have sounded like a total idiot to care how Jasper would feel after he murdered a seemingly innocent girl, but how could I not? The self-hatred in his eyes, the guilt... it was like I was seeing every emotion I'd ever brought onto myself reflected onto him.

The minutes dragged by, and when the bell finally rang, I jumped up from my seat, gathered my things and ran out of the room before the majority of the class had even stood from their seats. I could feel Jasper's inquisitive eyes on my back, but I did not stop, determined to get to the girl before anything could happen. When I arrived, the students who had just been let out from Trig were all wandering towards their next classes.

I stood on my tip-toes in hopes of spotting the girl. Her sandy-blonde hair was easy enough to pick out from the crowd - she stood with her friends, but was not paying attention to what they were talking about, instead rummaging though her schoolbag, her expression making it obvious that she had forgotten something. Her chest heaving in a sigh, she said something to her friends and doubled back, most likely to retrieve her missing object.

I scanned the ground for glass, hoping that I could pick it up and avoid any harm from coming to the girl in the first place, but I had no such luck; it was nowhere to be found. Grimacing, I stomped over to a bench that sat under a young tree and perched on the edge of the tabletop, watching the crowd of teenagers begin to thin. Still no sign of the girl. Had I missed her? The paths were practically deserted now.

Just when I was about to pull out my sketchbook and assume that the disaster wasn't to take place until after next period, the girl came stumbling out of building 7 at the exact same time that I spotted Jasper and the oldest of his siblings gliding their way towards us. It was easy to tell that the three were arguing about something; Jasper stood alone, his arms crossed and his shoulders hunched inwards defensively, while Rosalie and Emmett stood together across from him. To me, it looked like an unfair fight.

I couldn't tell if he was winning or losing the argument, for his face remained expressionless. Eventually, he held up a hand that obviously signaled the end of the conversation and left them standing there, his twin looking furious, and his adoptive brother looking bewildered. Within moments the pair wheeled around and stalked off in the opposite direction, neither sparing their sibling a second glance.

I glanced back to the girl just in time to see her trip over a crack in the pathway, the glass object in her hand going flying. I gasped, jumping from my seat. How could I have been so careless? Why hadn't I been watching her? Internally cursing myself, I hurriedly threw my bag over my shoulder and began to run towards her, hoping that I could somehow reach her in time to prevent her from cutting open her arm.

Too late I realized my hopes were in vain, and the glass shattered, large shards flying every which way. One raked down her arm, and the blood I had foreseen began to gush out almost immediately.

Jasper didn't seem to have noticed her yet. If only I could get to her before the wind blew - that seemed to be what had set him off in my vision.

As if on command, a light autumn breeze that would have been pleasant in any situation other than this decided to make its grand appearance, causing my hair to flutter around my face. My hair hardly mattered now. Struggling to keep my expression calm, I rushed over to the girl and helped her up, becoming more and more panicked as I noticed the way Jasper was walking towards us, his black eyes filled with a wild hunger that would have frightened me had I not been so focused on preventing the coming catastrophe.

"Come on, let's go get you patched up," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. I wasn't really paying attention to the girl, instead keeping a keen eye trained on Jasper. The moment I finished speaking, he froze on the spot, seemingly rooted there, and then, without further hesitation, he spun on his heel and began walking in the opposite direction.

I breathed out a sigh of relief. Crisis averted.

All of this happened in an instant, and thankfully the girl hadn't noticed my divided attention.

"Thank you. I'm so clumsy, and blood freaks me out... If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have been able to move," the girl admitted, her face paling with each step she took. If I had been bigger, I would have offered to carry her, but I was probably five or six inches shorter than her, so I would have probably been crushed. Instead, I slung one of her arms across my shoulders, knowing that I would be able to at least support her weight.

"Here, put your weight on me," I advised. She stared at me doubtfully for a few moments, the same things probably running through her head as they had mine.

Instead of letting her talk herself out of it, I said,"I'm not quite _that_ small. Carrying you might be too much, but I can certainly hold most of your weight."

My encouraging words seemed to convince her, for I could feel her weight being added to my shoulders. Smiling a small but triumphant smile, I towed her to the nurse's office and turned to leave, knowing that our school nurse was more than capable of deciding what to do with her.

"Thank you..." I had taken only a few steps before she called after me, trailing off, realizing that she didn't know my name.

"Alice," I offered helpfully.

"Whitney. Well, thanks again, Alice." She smiled gratefully at me.

"No problem." I waved to her with feigned cheerfulness before rushing out into the drizzling rain, my mind completely blank. Was I going into shock? I certainly hoped not, seeing as I had _prevented_ a horrific event from occurring. Perhaps it was the delayed shock of seeing the event in my state of unconsciousness. Maybe I was finally reacting in the way any normal person would have.

As my thoughts drifted back to Jasper, I still couldn't bring myself to be afraid of him. There went my 'reacting normally' theory. Any normal person would be petrified by the mere thought of a near-murderer, but I didn't think of him like that. He hadn't looked like he _wanted_ to kill anyone. The horror in his eyes was proof enough.

The rain fell harder as I walked aimlessly through the school grounds, debating whether or not to go back to class. I could afford to miss Spanish, couldn't I? But how on earth would I get home? I knew my way to the Webers' house from school, so I could always walk, but I didn't know how I would explain my early arrival home, so _that_ idea was out. I could always go to the park that was only a few blocks away from the house and wait out the last hour or so of school, I supposed. Yes, that was probably my best bet.

When I looked up, I found myself standing in the middle of the school's parking lot, just inches away from a rather large puddle. I glared menacingly at the cars surrounding me, half expecting one of them to roar to life and splash me. I didn't need a repeat of Wednesday. More cautiously than before, I wound my way through the parking lot, pulling up my hood as I did so. It was much to my dismay to realize that my umbrella was in the backseat of Angela's truck.

Damnit. I was probably going to get sick again.

By the time I was walking up the street that the Webers lived on, my body had gone numb, having been assaulted with the freezing cold rain for the duration of the fifteen minute walk that I had so stupidly convinced myself to take.

Shaking from head to toe, I forced myself to walk right past the warm, inviting house, knowing that I would be asked a lot of questions that I would be incapable of answering if I went inside.

So, instead of taking the long, hot shower I so desired, I sat down on a wet swing in the small park and swayed back and forth, checking my watch every now and again. I didn't want to miss my opportunity to walk into the house with Angela, for if I missed her, I would still have to answer the undesirable questions that the Webers would be sure to ask me. Angela would cover for me, I was sure of it. Perhaps it was arrogant of me to assume that things would work out in my favor, but I really didn't have it in me to care.

When my watch _finally_ beeped to signify that I should begin the treacherous journey back to my temporary home, I could no longer remember why I had thought this particular escapade would be a good idea. I could have faced the troublesome task of telling my aunt and uncle that I had skipped. Why hadn't I? I wasn't thinking straight today. _That_ much had become obvious.

My legs stiff from sitting in the same position for too long, I marched my way back up the hill that the Webers so conveniently lived atop of. Who in their right mind would out a park at the bottom of a hill? If anything, the neighborhood should be at the bottom, and the park at the top, so after a tiresome visit to said park, you would be going downhill on your way home.

I continued to brood about the placement of everything in the entire town of Forks until I reached the trees that bordered the Webers' house, silently willing Angela to drive faster. But, of course, if anything she would be driving _slower_ than usual in this kind of weather. Just my luck.

Only a few minutes had passed, but to me it felt like a lifetime. The moment I heard the familiar roar of my friend's truck, I sprinted out from behind the large tree I had been standing behind and bounced next to the still-moving vehicle, mostly trying to keep myself warm.

"Oh, my god, Alice! I waited for you, but someone told me that you hadn't been in Spanish, and I left," Angela exclaimed, jumping out of her truck and running towards me. "You left your umbrella in the back." She handed the black object to me. I chuckled grimly, wishing more than anything that I had kept the stupid thing in my bag.

"Yeah, I ditched, and now I'm freezing to death, which is rather regrettable. I really wanted to live through high school," I joked, rubbing my arms in hopes of the friction warming me up. "Er, it'd be best if your parents didn't know about this, so could we just head inside and act like I fell in a puddle on the way to the truck?"

Just as I had predicted she would, she nodded, ever-agreeable, and ushered me inside, calling to her parents that I needed a towel. They believed the puddle story, thankfully enough, and Aunt Kathy ran upstairs to start the shower for me while I defrosted, knowing that with my non-responding fingers that I wouldn't be able to turn the knobs.

_Well, you definitely win the prize for the best use of common sense,_ I sarcastically congratulated myself, beginning to shuffle my way upstairs. I wasn't getting any warmer, and I knew that a nice, hot shower was a necessity if I wanted to regain feeling from my chin down. By the time I made it to the guest bathroom, Mrs. Weber was bustling about, replacing my old towels with clean, fluffy ones. I could see that she had brought the space heater back out.

Spotting me, she squeezed me in a brief hug before vacating the room, leaving me to my own devices. I hastily slid out of my soaking wet clothes and threw them into the laundry hamper, feeling no warmer than I had with them on.

Gritting my teeth to prevent them from chattering, I jumped in the shower, enjoying the sensation of regaining the feeling in my limbs. For once, I was not worried about wasting water, instead I focused completely on the feeling of _warmth_, wanting to store it away in my memory for future use. I wouldn't learn from this experience - I hadn't last time. I would go out in the rain again, unprepared, I was sure. I had a tendency to make spur of the moment decisions, much like I had today.

After drying myself off, I flicked the space heater on and wriggled into my winter pajamas. But, now that I was away from the relaxing warmth of the shower, I was shivering again. After scowling out the window and at the cold rain that continued to fall in a way that was seemingly innocent for a moment, I turned the space heater to its highest setting and wrapped myself in my bed's blankets, squeezing my eyes shut.

Now that I was somewhat warm and dry, the thoughts that had seemed nonexistent in my moments of panic earlier today began to make themselves known. Sitting in the rain, I hadn't been in any state to think about my vision, or about Jasper's strange behavior, and the way Whitney's open, bleeding wound seemed to wake an almost inhuman hunger inside of him...

What _was _he?


	6. Puzzles

**Insomnia**

Chapter 6

"Hey, Alice, a bunch of kids are going down to First Beach in La Push tonight. Do you want to go?" Angela poked her head into my room, having just gotten off of the phone with one of her friends.

I snapped my sketchbook shut and sat up, leaving yet _another_ of my sketches of Jasper unfinished. An outing would be a good way to distract myself from my thoughts, I supposed. Ever since last Friday I had been trying desperately to figure out exactly what he was, but it was proving rather difficult, seeing as he hadn't been at school for the past five days. His siblings were there, but there had been no sign of the one that I was the most interested in.

"Sure. When are we leaving?" I was standing now, already contemplating the different outfits I could wear, determined to think about anything but the elusive Jasper.

"At about... 7:30, I suppose," she told me, shooting me a fleeting smile before disappearing down the hallway. I set about preparing myself, not allowing myself to think about anything but what I was presently doing.

_Step, step, step, open drawer, hold up, fold, hold up, fold, hold up, fold._ Snatching several articles of appropriate attire, I dragged myself into the bathroom and modeled my outfits, eventually deciding that I would freeze to death if I didn't wear a sweater. I would wear my bathing suit underneath, despite the fact that it was positively _freezing_ outside, and there were ominous, black clouds visible in the distance. It struck me as odd to go to the beach in October, but then again, the temperature was pretty much the same in Forks year round, except for in the winter.

I glanced at the clock. 7:00 PM. Great, I still had another half an hour to kill. Gritting my teeth, I stomped back over to my bed, focusing solely on which foot I was putting in front of the other, and jabbed my Macbook's power button with a little too much force. A loud crack echoed through my otherwise silent room as it popped back out of its socket. I glared murderously at it, daring it to make any other protest. It did not, but it made no difference in my mood. Each day I was growing progressively more irritable, frustrated by my inability to piece together this puzzle I had made for myself.

_Stop thinking about it. You're going to go have _fun_ with kids from school tonight, not confuse yourself with riddles,_ I told myself firmly, drumming my fingers on my laptop as it started up. What I was doing, I wasn't entirely sure. I really should check my email - my sister was probably being driven up the wall at my lack of communication with her. I bit my lip, hoping she hadn't taken it personally. I was almost sure she wouldn't have - she was a tough girl. Sadly, I couldn't say the same for myself.

For a few brief moments, I shut my eyes, blocking out all thoughts of Biloxi and the things that had happened there. I was in _Forks_ now, living with the Webers, going to public school. It would do me no good to think of all the things I missed from home. It felt strange to call it 'home' now; - nowhere really felt like home to me anymore. Given the option, I was positive that I wouldn't return back to Mississippi, to my parents. And yet, my home was not with the Webers. They had their own family life to lead. I would find my own way, someday.

I hoped.

Breathing out a sigh, I reopened my eyes and stared at my computer's glowing screen, eventually deciding against trying to accomplish anything. No, it was best that I went and checked that I had everything ready...

Greatly amused, I watched as several of the boys I'd become acquainted with over the past few days stiffly made their way towards the campfire one of the Quileute boys had struck up, their lips blue and their hair dripping down their backs.

Only thirty minutes earlier they had marched bravely towards the icy waters of First Beach, laughing and joking amongst themselves, not seeming to realize what the consequences of their actions would be. They knew it now, oh yes, as they huddled around the warm fire, their fingers thawing. Had I not experienced the feeling of being so cold that you went numb before, I probably would have laughed out loud at their misfortune.

I was currently sandwiched between Angela and Lauren Mallory, which wasn't turning out to be an overly pleasant experience. Lauren had taken Tyler Crowley's well-being into her own hands, and was rubbing his shoulders with a towel that she had brought with her. He wasn't paying attention to her, however, instead he had turned around and was deeply immersed in a monologue with me. I was nodding and smiling politely, though my mind was elsewhere. The beach was gorgeous, and I found myself wishing that I'd brought my sketchbook to capture the scene.

Tyler must have asked me something, for he was sitting in silence and staring at me. I forced my head to bob, though I was growing tired of him. Lauren was becoming more and more annoyed, her already too-narrow eyes narrowing farther with each nod I gave. It was only a matter of time before she lost it.

When he _finally_ stopped talking, I went to look away, but Lauren put her hand on my shoulder, stopping me. I tensed, noticing the malicious look in her eye.

"Alice, why didn't you invite Hale? Isn't having half of the male population of Forks High chasing after you good enough? What makes you think that Jasper would choose _you?_" she asked, obviously trying to provoke me. The campfire had gone silent, not that it had been overly noisy in the first place. All eyes were on Lauren and I.

"What?" I asked sharply, my eyes now just as narrow as hers.

"Well, you're like _constantly_ flirting with him. Wasn't one rejection enough for you?" Lauren was growing more confident now, soaking up the attention like a sponge. I snorted, unable to contain my mirth. So that _had_ been the common assumption, just as I had suspected. A few giggles escaped me, and soon I was full-on laughing in her face. Her shocked expression was priceless, my reaction most definitely _not_ the one she had been expecting.

After a few long moments, I had managed to compose myself enough to speak coherently.

"Is that what everyone thinks? That I would go to tears because a boy _rejected me?_ Hardly!" I snickered. "Jasper had absolutely nothing to do with that_._ I _do_ have a life outside of boys, believe it or not."

A Quileute boy was the first to break the awkward silence that had fallen over the campfire.

"The Cullens don't come here," he said darkly.

I was instantly more alert, the exact opposite of the rest of the people sitting around the fire, who had all gone back to their own individual conversations after it had become obvious that Lauren and I weren't going to have a cat fight.

The way he said it made it obvious, if only to me, that this tribe knew more of the mysterious family than the inhabitants of Forks. Something told me that this could be another piece of the puzzle, another nudge in the right direction.

"What do you mean?" I asked eagerly, leaning towards him.

One of the other Quileute boys groaned, rolling his eyes. "Great, now look what you've done, Sam. It's just a legend."

"Yeah, _everyone_ knows that the legends are just scary stories," a young boy, no older than thirteen, chimed in.

"Believe what you want Jacob, Seth, and I'll do likewise," the one name Sam snapped. Both boys fell silent immediately, intimidated by his cold stare. I wasn't paying attention anymore, trying to slow my suddenly whirling thoughts.

The campfire didn't last long after my quarrel with Lauren. Most of the Quileutes started heading off in groups, returning home, no doubt, and several kids from school were also packing up their things and leaving the beach. It was probably a good idea to go, too - I didn't like the looks of the storm clouds overhead.

Not long after Jessica Stanley and Lauren left, Angela seemed to realize that it was getting cold, and suggested that we get back. I agreed all too willingly, more excited than I had a right to be to get back and do the research that I'd been _trying _(and failing miserably)to do all week.

Angela and I rode home in a comfortable silence, neither of us feeling the need to break the silence. I was wrapped up in my own thoughts, as usual, so if she did speak I probably wouldn't have heard her anyways.

As we pulled into the driveway, I thanked her for inviting me and announced that I was going to turn in early. She didn't seem to find anything unusual about my behavior, bless her, and bade me goodnight with a small wave.

I dashed up the stairs and into my room, overjoyed when I found that my Macbook was still running, despite the fact that my bed could have caught on fire in my absence. The internet loaded quickly, for which I was grateful - I wasn't entirely sure that I had the patience to wait any longer than three seconds. My keystrokes were uneven and inaccurate, but I didn't bother trying to calm myself down, too excited by the prospect of solving this mystery once and for all.

The first website I clicked on was very small, but I read what little information that I could find with great interest. It was mostly about wolves. My expression darkened, realizing that I had absolutely no clue what I was looking _for_. This was going to be harder than I had expected. Sigh.

Most of the sites I clicked on were much like the first. Legends of men turning into wolves, and of ancient spirits roaming the skies. I shot down a pop-up, frowning and clicking the back button with a little too much force.

After debating whether or not to call it quits for the night, I clicked on the final link on third page, not expecting it to hold any information different from the last few. I mean, that would have made life too easy.

It was easy to skim over the legends that I had already read several times, and as I approached the last one on the page, I was already preparing to go back to the search engine and try a different website, but two words captured my attention as I glanced at the short paragraphs.

_Red eyes._

My stomach clenched in anticipation. I could _feel _it; this was a turning point.

The feeling intensified as I read the story in full. It went on to describe an inhumanly beautiful woman with vibrant red eyes, who demanded something of a small Quileute village in a high soprano voice that no one seemed to be able to understand. Few members of the tribe recognized her for what she really was: a 'cold one', as she had been called.

They were the first to die, drained of all their blood, their lifeless bodies left strewn around the camp. There had been no survivors; the tribe members had been no match for her incredible speed and strength.

I stared at the computer's screen, not really seeing it. My mind was elsewhere.

Why hadn't I seen it before? Whitney's body had seemed deflated, somehow, but I had just assumed that was because she had been dead. But, no, looking back over the disturbing image that had been burned into my memory, two tiny holes in her neck were just barely visible. I hadn't taken any notice of it before, being the oh-so observant person I was. I internally kicked myself - why hadn't I seen it before?

The puzzle pieces were slowly fitting themselves together. The way Jasper tensed whenever I blushed, the dark hunger in his eyes as he walked towards the bleeding Whitney, the way his family never ate or drank anything...

Again, I waited for fear to come, as I had last Friday. Again, it did not come. I frowned. What was wrong with me? Why didn't I ever react normally? Any normal person would be locking their doors and windows, perhaps even sleeping with a baseball bat. I, however, didn't truly believe that the Cullens harbored any desire to hurt innocent people. Sure, one paper cut could probably send one of them over the edge, but if they had meant the humans in Forks any harm, wouldn't they have done something by now? It wouldn't make any sense for them to work so hard to appear human if they were just going to kill us all in the end.

I yawned and glanced at the clock. 4:00AM. _Really? _I hadn't even noticed time passing. It occurred to me then that I was about to pass out with exhaustion - I had barely slept at all this week, to absorbed in searching for answers. Now that I had put my mind at rest, I could sleep.

And so, without even bothering to change out of my clothes, I crawled under my bed sheets, smiling to myself.

I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.


	7. Revelations

**Insomnia**

Chapter 7

Patience was not something I was capable of feeling as I sat on the curb in front of the Webers' house, fiddling with the loose strings of my jacket. My eyes were glued to the street's only corner, the very one that I waited for the familiar blue vehicle to come speeding around.

I wasn't entirely sure how long I'd been waiting out here. What I _did_ know, however, was that I was freezing, and that if he didn't show up soon, I was more likely to be a popsicle than a human by the time he appeared.

I must have looked a sight, sitting there on a cold Sunday evening for no apparent reason. I mustn't have looked like I was waiting for someone - after all, if he had known that I was waiting for him, I would have stayed inside, where it was warm. Any normal person would have. Of course, a normal person wouldn't have known that he was coming in the first place. Normal was definitely _not_ the appropriate adjective to describe this situation.

But here I sat, being buffeted by the chilly winds of autumn, watching, waiting. It couldn't be long now - in my vision a lone star had shone in the sky, just as it did now. That didn't stop me from drumming my fingers on my knee impatiently, though. Despite the fact that I knew he would be here any moment, I was growing more and more impatient, and nervous. What if he made a decision that changed his plans for the night? Would I be stuck waiting out here all night? I bit my lip, squinting into the night, hoping to catch a glimpse of his headlights.

The street remained empty for what felt like a lifetime, and then, faster than I had ever seen a car travel before, Jasper's easily recognizable Jaguar was speeding down the street. I beamed.

"_Finally,_" I muttered, hopping from my seat on the ground and blinking in the sudden bright light. For a few terrifying seconds I thought he would drive right by, but, just as he had in my dream, he pulled over and threw open the passenger door. That had been where the dream had cut off. I was flying solo now.

Feeling more than slightly nervous, I clambered into the fancy car and chanced a glance at the blonde boy sitting next to me. He was staring at me, unspoken questions filling his eyes. I waited for his raging curiosity to take over his gentlemanly nature. He had better control of himself than I did, remaining silent as he drove forwards, though he didn't once take his eyes off of me (which concerned me slightly).

After a few painfully long moments, he seemed unable to contain himself any longer.

"What are you doing outside tonight? It's freezing." He was playing it safe. I shrugged, wriggling around in my seat until I was facing him fully.

"Waiting for you," I answered simply. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"How did you know that I would come?" Jasper asked, his restraint apparently forgotten.

"The same way I knew you were going to attack Whitney," I replied, feigning nonchalance. In reality, my heart was pounding in my anxiety, and I found it impossible to sit still. How was I going to explain this to him? I had to be sure, _absolutely sure, _that I could trust him. I knew that I wouldn't be able to take it if he reacted like my family.

I bit my lip, unnerved by his silence. Had I upset him? His eyes fixated themselves on the road in front of us, and he seemed absorbed in his driving. I knew he had heard me, the car being too quiet not to. It would have been possible to hear a pin drop. I took a few moments to admire the silent but powerful engine, knowing a good car when I saw one, but I could only distract myself from him for so long, and my eyes were soon drawn back to his face.

After what felt like hours rather than minutes, he broke the silence. "How much do you know, Alice?"

"Enough."

Jasper turned back to face me again, his face blank and emotionless. "What got you started? A book? A movie?"

I shook my head. "No, it was a dream, actually. Remember that day in Biology, when I told you not to go past building 7?" He nodded. "I knew that something bad was going to happen to that girl, and I knew that you were going to blame yourself for whatever it was. I tried to stop her from cutting open her arm, really, I did, but I was too late." I paused, watching the all too familiar pain enter his eyes. "But you didn't do anything, and that's what matters. You kept control of yourself. At the time I didn't understand - all I knew was that you weren't _human_. It wasn't until Friday night that I actually understood," I explained in a rush, gulping in glorious, beautiful, wonderful air.

"How can you sit here, Alice, knowing what I'm capable of?" he murmured, so quietly that I had to strain my ears to pick up what he was saying.

"You're _not _a murderer," I practically growled. "You didn't touch a single hair on Whitney's head. She's perfectly fine_._"

He laughed, though the sound was cold and humorless. "It's not _her_ life that I care about taking. It was the fact that I very nearly robbed _you_ of a healthy, long life that makes my actions more... inexcusable than they already were."

I imitated his laugh. "Healthy? No, I don't think seeing visions of the future when I sleep qualifies as _healthy," _I spat, bitterness creeping into my voice. "I'll never be healthy. I'm too screwed up to be healthy." I took a deep, shuddering breath, forcing myself to refocus my straying train of thought. "Besides, I know you wouldn't kill anyone out of cold blood."

He looked unconvinced. "I've killed people before, Alice. I could kill you now, all too easily."

"I'm not completely stupid, you know," I said, genuinely offended. "I wouldn't be sitting here if you were going to kill me. I _have _seen you before, you know - since I was fifteen, actually. I'm pretty sure in all the time I've known about you, I would have seen something like you killing me."

There was a short stretch of silence before Jasper asked, "How does that work, Alice? Your visions?"

I should have expected that.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure, actually," I began hesitantly, gauging his reaction. "I don't sleep much, so I haven't had much experience with my dreams. As far as I'm aware, my visions have all come true. Except for... well, you know. My dreams are rarely 'normal' - I have a lot of nightmares, which are almost worse than visions." I sighed. "What about you?How does being a... a _vampire_ work?" It felt silly to say the word aloud.

"Why don't you ask me the basic questions? It'll be easier that way," Jasper suggested, seemingly unfazed by my not-so-casual use of the term.

"Hmm." I took a few seconds to decide what question to ask first. "Can you turn into a bat?"

"That one's a myth." His lips were twitching, fighting a smile.

"Damn," I feigned disappointment. "What about being burnt by the sun?"

"Another myth. Sunlight doesn't have any effect on my health whatsoever." He grinned his lopsided grin. I felt happier just looking at him. "We still can't come out in the sunlight, though. It would... attract unwanted attention."

"What does it do?"

Jasper shook his head. "I can't describe it properly. I'll show you sometime," he promised. My heart fluttered at the idea of seeing him again outside of school. I'd been trying extremely hard to ignore my half-developed fears of his family leaving Forks immediately due to my discoveries. It felt as though an enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

"What about sleeping in coffins?" I was going through every vampire trait I could think of.

"We don't sleep. At all."

"_Really?" _I gasped, ignoring the twinge of envy I felt. He nodded, obviously amused by my reaction. "Does this mean I can't sneak into your house at night and plunge a stake through your heart, then?"

"Nope. That's a myth too - another way for humans to think they stand a chance against us." His smile faded somewhat. "Honestly, Alice, does the fact that I could kill you within seconds not _bother_ you? You shouldn't have come looking for me tonight. The future can change too easily - you should know that." He was obviously referring to last Friday. I glared at him. Had I not made it clear that I didn't care what his species was, that I believed he could control himself?

"I don't care. If you meant the humans in Forks any harm, wouldn't you have done something by now? Why would you bother acting human?" I countered, confident in my logic. He remained silent, and I took that as a signal that I had made my point.

I peered at him, edging forwards so that I could see his eyes, wondering if I had gone too far. Instead of remaining silent like I had planned, I blurted out, "Why aren't your eyes red? Do you wear contacts to blend in, or something?"

A peculiar emotion crossed Jasper's face, and it was gone so fast that I wasn't entirely sure that I had seen it in the first place.

"Our eyes are naturally golden. My family's, anyways," he assured me. Before I could even open my mouth to ask why, he was speaking again. "We don't hunt humans_._ Carlisle didn't want to be a monster, you see, and he found a way around hunting our designated prey. We'revegetarians, in a way, living off of only the blood of animals."

"I _knew_ you were different." I clapped my hands together, thrilled that my suspicions had been proved correct.

"It's not always easy, blending in. We try to keep to ourselves, in hopes that no one will notice we're different. We're lucky to have Edward looking out for us."

I frowned confusedly. "What?"

"Some of us have extra talents, aside from our enhanced senses. Edward can read minds, for example."

My cheeks burned. So he would have been able to hear all of my self-centered thoughts? How humiliating. I desperately hoped that he hadn't assumed the worst - it was bad enough that he would have known that I was psychic, when I had been trying so hard to keep _that_ part of my life locked away, where no one would ever be able to access it again, except for me.

Of course, all that had been forgotten tonight, now that Jasper knew. It was only fair, after all. I knew his secret, so why should he not know mine?

"So... so he knew? About me being psychic?" I squeaked.

"No, Bella has been shielding your thoughts from him since day one. Apparently, you thought about wanting to keep something to yourself, and Edward, being the nosy thing that he is, was trying to figure out exactly what it was, and why you had a vivid picture of me with red eyes in the front of your mind." My blush deepened. "She thought you were entitled to your privacy, and so she made sure you got it - she's a mental shield," Jasper explained. I let out a relieved sigh.

A thought hit me, then. "Do _you_ have an extra gift?"

Jasper nodded. "Yes, I do. I can feel and control the emotions of others. For example, I could make a room full of angry people feel calm, providing that we were in the same area."

"So that's how you knew when I was upset on Friday," I said. "That makes sense. I was sure I hadn't been that obvious. I can't believe I didn't see it!"

"I'm surprised at how well you're taking this. I keep waiting for you to attempt to throw yourself out of the car, screaming, or something," he admitted sheepishly, staring intensely into my eyes, as though trying to decipher the thoughts behind my emotions.

"Well, when you've been having visions since before you can remember, you get used to the supernatural," I replied, smirking.

As he chuckled, I turned to glance out the window, suddenly curious as to where we were. It was a pointless effort, for darkness was pressing in on the car's sides, and it was impossible to see anything. I turned my gaze to the front window, but all I could see was the predictable black stretch of pavement, otherwise known as a road.

"Um, where exactly _are_ we, Jasper?" I asked, still squinting out of the window in hopes of seeing something I recognized.

"We're approaching Port Angeles, seeing as there's only so much of Forks to drive around in," he said. I glanced at the clock and frowned, taken aback. Had we really been driving for fifty minutes? It hadn't seemed like any time had passed at all. "Would you like me to take you back?" He had interpreted my shock as something else, obviously.

"No!" It took every last ounce of of my seemingly nonexistent self control to prevent myself from clamping my hand over my mouth in embarrassment. "I mean, I'm supposed to be out for a few hours, seeing as I didn't know when you'd show up and when I'd be back," I hastily tacked on, blushing. I knew it was pointless to try and hide my emotions from him, but I could try. I didn't even understand my desire to be in his presence, so if I didn't, he wouldn't. Right?

Jasper reached out to touch his long fingers to my pink face. "Why are you blushing?"

I looked down, having a difficult time ignoring the tingling sensation spreading throughout my body at his touch. "I'm just... confused... regarding my feelings." My voice was little more than a mumble, my mind elsewhere, slowly coming to a realization. It was starting to make sense, my frenzied determination to save him the pain of murder, my longing to comfort him when he looked upset, my years of dreaming of him, wondering. It was all leading up to this.

And I had absolutely no objection to it.

"Oh, god, Alice, no. You can't," Jasper groaned, leaning back into his seat. It took me a moment to remember that he would have been able to feel my emotions, understanding them at the same time I had, if not earlier.

"Why not?" I demanded. What was the worst he could say? That my feelings weren't reciprocated? I could take that, at least I thought that I could. I had gone through worse, after all.

"It's too dangerous for you," he said. I wondered what was going through his mind. Was he trying to find a way to let me down easily? Or- I didn't dare allow myself to hope, knowing that I would only be crushed if my hoping turned out to be in vain, as it usually did.

A few excruciatingly long moments passed, in which I struggled to unscramble my jumbled thoughts, enough to put them into words.

"What are you going to do about this?" I sighed forlornly. "I suppose you know just about as well as I do how I feel, Jasper, and you should know how good I am at repressing my emotions." It was a weak attempt at humor, and by the time the words had tumbled from my mouth I realized I hadn't meant it as a joke at all.

Jasper ran a hand through his hair. "I actually don't know if I can stay away from you, Alice. It's a very strange feeling." I felt a flicker of hope, but quickly shoved it back, determined not to lose control of my emotions. "I could try, but I'm a very selfish creature, and I don't _want_ to try," he continued quietly, reopening his honey-colored eyes. I studied his features closely, looking for any hint of sarcasm.

Despite the fact that I found none, I was still reluctant to allow myself to believe him. Sure, I trusted that he wouldn't hurt me... physically, at least. Emotionally I wasn't entirely sure. The last time I had tried to put faith in someone it had gotten me a one-way ticket to Forks. It would be a long time before I felt completely comfortable allowing myself to wholly trust someone again.

"Really?" My voice was quiet.

"Alice, what happened to you?" he asked, obviously having picked up on my instability.

I couldn't keep the bitterness from my smile. "Like I said, it's a long story."


	8. Irony

**Insomnia**

Chapter 8

I awoke the next morning to a very confusing disarray of emotions.

Firstly, I was surprised that I had managed to sleep through the whole night twice in a row; that was a rare occurrence these days.

Secondly, I was disbelieving, more than reluctant to believe that last night had really happened. It was simply too good to be true, no matter how badly I wanted it to be. It didn't make any sense for Jasper to want to spend any more time with me than necessary, and he would surely have shied away from the idea that I felt so much more than friendship for him.

Lastly, I was excited. If last night really _had_ happened, that meant he would be at school today - he had promised that he would be. And, if my most recent vision had been correct, he would be waiting for me in the Webers' long driveway.

Unable to sit still any longer, I scrambled ungracefully from the tangle of bed sheets and more or less sprinted to my room's window. I was not disappointed, for there sat his shiny blue Jaguar, right next to Angela's rusty old truck. The car made its surroundings seem far less impressive in comparison.

I grinned as I turned away, a new spring to my step as I hurried about, far more eager than I really had any right to be to see him again. I couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes at a time. For the first time in ages, I reached blindly into my closet and pulled out a shirt without even checking to make sure I had something to match. Instead, I simply grabbed a pair of jeans and threw them on. I was still tugging on a sock as I rushed from my room, my makeup laying forgotten on the bathroom counter. I was too jittery to be able to hold my hand steadily enough to put it on right now, anyways.

"Morning, Angela!" I greeted my cousin cheerfully, bouncing over to the cupboard and fixing myself a bowl of cereal.

"You wouldn't happen to know why there's a fancy car parked in our driveway, would you?" she asked, truly confused.

"That's Jasper. He's driving me to school today," I explained between mouthfuls of Cheerios, amused by her mildly shocked expression.

"I thought I recognized the car from somewhere." Angela nodded, accepting my offhanded explanation without question. For all she knew, we had arranged this days ago, when, in fact, he hadn't _technically_ told me that he would be here this morning. "Is he who you were waiting for last night?" she inquired.

I couldn't help but smile. Angela had just confirmed what I had still been so unsure of: last night had, indeed, happened.

"Yes," I sighed, the feeling that I was becoming one of those irritatingly infatuated teenage girls growing. Ah, well. Being annoying was better than being depressed all the time.

Angela shot me a knowing smile before returning to her breakfast. That I was thankful for, seeing as I couldn't have told her anything else about last night, seeing as most of our conversation had revolved around the fact that Jasper wasn't human. Telling another human the Cullen family's secret wouldn't end well for them - I didn't need my premonitions to be sure of that. Not that I would even think of telling another soul in the first place. _That_ would earn me a padded cell in an asylum, rather than appointments with a psychiatrist. If I'd had my way, I would never have to deal with either.

I quickly finished up my breakfast, downing a cup of orange juice in one gulp. Angela watched me as I fumbled and dropped the plastic cup on my way to the sink, struggling to hold back laughter. I halfheartedly glared at her before dashing up the stairs to grab my bag. I stared briefly at the bathroom door, contemplating attempting to put on at least some eyeliner. Eventually, I flitted in and hastily applied my makeup - better safe than sorry.

"I'll see you at school, Alice," Angela bade me goodbye, heading up the stairs as I headed down them.

I smiled apologetically, feeling bad for abandoning her. "Sorry."

With that, I practically ripped the front door off of its hinges, feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning. Jasper was leaning against his car, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched me. I was too happy to be embarrassed by my display of childish excitement. For once, I felt completely normal. The last I could remember feeling this way was years ago.

"Hi," I said a little breathlessly, skidding to a stop in front of him.

"Mornin', Alice," he chuckled. "I take it you don't mind getting a ride to school with me today?"

"Nope. You're not going to get rid of me that easily," I teased.

"You're certainly cheerful this morning," Jasper observed, for I had started bouncing on the spot.

"No, this is how I usually am. Or, rather, used to be," I corrected myself. "You're surprisingly talented at unearthing, well, me. I haven't felt this normal in _ages_."

His expression darkened at the mention of my hidden past. It must be terribly frustrating for him, to feel what I felt, and not to have any of the memories to match up with them that I did.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, resting a hand on his arm. It was hard to ignore the warmth spreading throughout my body at the casual touch. My mood heightened when he didn't flinch away.

Jasper shook his head. "Don't apologize. It's just hard knowing that something is hurting you."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm perfectly fine right now."

Again, he shook his head. "No, it's always there, underneath your more dominant emotions. You may not notice it."

My high spirits faded slightly. "Honestly, I try not to think about it."

He caught my hint, bless him. Or perhaps he simply noticed the sudden drop in my emotional high. Either way, he looked down guiltily and leaned around me to open the passenger door. I thanked him quietly, climbing into the car for the third time in my life. I glanced around me, realizing that this was, in fact, the first time that I had been in the car in broad daylight. The first two times I had been in no state to take note of the appearance of the Jaguar's interior.

Without really realizing I was doing it, I ran a hand along the soft leather seat I was sitting in, just as I used to do with my car at home.

I flinched, jerking my hand back.

"I'm sorry." He wasn't apologizing for himself.

I understood. "I'll be fine," I assured him. And it was true. Whenever something happened trigger an old memory, I got over my depression as quickly as I used to get over a scraped knee. Jasper nodded slowly, not looking entirely convinced, but not saying anything otherwise. He would just have to trust me.

After about one minute, I broke the silence. "Jessica is going to ambush me today in Trig," I commented idly, crossing and uncrossing my ankles, unable to decide which position was more comfortable.

"What're you going to tell her?"

"Actually, I was hoping for some help with that. Most of her questions involve you."

Jasper grinned crookedly at me. "You're going to have to tell me what she wants to know, first."

"Oh. Right. Um..." I paused, trying to recall the exact questions. "From what I can remember, she's going to want to know if we're secretly dating, if we've gone out yet, and... the rest is fuzzy. My memory sucks." I scowled at my reflection for a few moments, before glancing at Jasper in the rearview mirror. "Hey, your reflection is visible. Some vampire _you_ are."

"I thought you did your research, Alice? You should know by now that I'm not a typical vampire." He feigned disappointment, though it wasn't long before his smile reappeared.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "I _did_," I protested. "Well, okay, my research wasn't exactly extensive, but I was right, wasn't I?"

"You never did tell me exactly how you managed to figure all of that out," Jasper said, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

"That, Jasper Hale, is a story for another time," I said.

"Lunch?" he inquired, almost hopefully, it seemed.

I nodded. "Now, we have more pressing matters to focus on. Such as what I'm supposed to say to the infallibly nosy Jessica."

Jasper thought about it for a moment. "Hmm, I guess you could say yes to the first. It's not exactly untrue." I was sure he heard my heart accelerate. "And, in all technicality, we _have_ gone out, even if both times were unplanned," he continued.

"Oh, the rest of the female population won't like _that_ when the gossip gets around. You seem to have acquired quite the fan club," I snickered. "What did you do to get them all so interested, anyways?"

He looked like he wanted to make a face. "We, like carnivorous flowers, are physically attractive to our intended prey. We draw humans in, though most of you don't have the nerve to speak to us for any long period of time. Your instincts scream at you to run." He paused to shoot me a pointed glance. "Or _should. _You don't seem to have been born with that survival instinct."

I studied his expression closely, trying to figure out whether this was a good thing or not. Once more I failed at reading him, and gave up on trying to be observant.

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

"Both."

"That's helpful."

"Sorry." Jasper looked sheepish. "It's a good thing for me, I suppose - you can sit in my company without beginning to fear for your life. Which you should."

"I won't fear for my life until I've been given a reason to," I stated matter-of-factly. "I'm positive that I'm going to live through today, so why should I worry about something for no reason?"

I took his lack of response to be a sign that I'd won the argument. The silence didn't last long, however, for no less than thirty seconds later we were pulling into the parking lot of Forks High. Self-consciously, I ran a hand through my short black hair, knowing that today, the day I'd like to fade out of the spotlight, was going to be the one day that I simply couldn't_. _It wasn't the end of the world, of course, but being scrutinized by analytical eyes all day really wasn't my idea of fun.

Jasper placed a hand on my shoulder, and almost immediately feelings of calm and serenity spread through me. I smiled at him, appreciating his manufactured calm. "Thanks."

"You'll be fine," he murmured, taking his hand off my shoulder and turning to exit the car. My feelings of peacefulness faded slightly, though his strange control over the atmosphere was still strong enough to prevent my worries from breaking through. Oh, they were there all right, but it was proving impossible to feel the emotions that came with them. It was a strange sensation.

While I bent over to retrieve my bag from the floor, Jasper rushed around the car to open my door for me. I giggled as I stepped out of the car.

"Quite the southern gentleman, aren't we?" I commented.

He ducked his head modestly, in a fashion that I found to be more than slightly adorable. In the days leading up to today, I hadn't really taken much notice of his physical appearance, except for on the odd occasion. The initial shock of the Cullens' beauty had already worn off by the time he had entered the cafeteria on my first day. That, and I'd had three years to get used to how he looked.

Internally shaking myself, I finally realized that everyone was staring at us.

Ah, the beauty of living in such a small town. News traveled far faster than it had a right to.

I did my best to ignore them as well as Jasper seemed to be able to, though I was sure I wasn't nearly as convincing as he was. For all I knew, he really _didn't_ notice them. I didn't understand how he couldn't, seeing as almost every head was turned in our direction - even his siblings were staring. The angry looks on the faces of the girls in my grade would have been priceless, had I not been somewhat afraid of their wrath.

We were approaching the rest of the Cullens now. Rosalie looked livid. I wondered what her problem was. The corner of Edward's mouth turned up in a smile, and I momentarily wondered why, before I remembered he could hear every thought going through my head, providing that Bella had relented her shield. Once again, I had failed to expect the expected.

Today was just full of surprises, wasn't it?

For example, just as we passed Rosalie, who sat on the edge of her shiny red BMW, Jasper uttered a phrase I would have never expected to leave his mouth. He had always spoken as though he was from a different era, which, now that I thought about it, he probably was. Such slang wouldn't have been used whenever he had experienced his childhood.

Another thing I didn't expect was the irony that the words would hold.

"Oh, bite me, Rosalie."

My stomach hurt from laughing by the time we arrived at my first class.


	9. Bitter

**Insomnia**

Chapter 9

My relationship with Jasper teetered dangerously on the edge for another week. He would pick me up every morning, drive me to school, walk me to each of my classes, save a table for me at lunch, drive me back to the Webers' house. Two days earlier, he had taken to asking me any question that popped into his head, asking things such as what my favorite color was, or what my favorite book was. I was immensely thankful that he avoided delving into the topic he was the most interested in - I wasn't ready to tell him that. To tell _anyone _that.

As I stared unseeingly at my math homework, I couldn't ignore the feeling that I should turn on my cell phone. All day I had caught myself absently reaching for it. Every time I'd stopped myself in hopes of the feeling vanishing, but the feeling had only intensified as the hours wore on.

I was tapping my pencil against my notebook now, keeping my hand busy. Another lapse in attention would surely mean I would grab the small silver device sitting next to me. Its close proximity did not lessen the nagging sensation. I figured I should put it away, but something stopped me.

Shifting uncomfortably, I tried and failed to concentrate on the page full of math problems before me. It was no use. All I could think of was the phone.

"Fine, fine. You win," I grumbled to myself, snatching the cell phone and turning it on, impatiently waiting for it to start up. Not two minutes after I set it back down across from me on the bed did it ring loudly, signifying that I'd received a text message. It could only be one of three people: Cynthia, my mom, or my dad. I wasn't sure why I had a cell phone in the first place, seeing as I didn't have anyone to call, but my parents had insisted that I carry one with me at all times back when I'd lived in Biloxi.

It was much to my relief to see the familiar number. Cynthia.

_Mom's calling in a few. Just a heads up._

_Miss you tons._

_xx Cynthia_

All of the color drained from my face.

Oh, no.

No, no, _no._

I was trying to leave my past behind, get over everything that had happened before Forks. I'd been so sure that I would be able to get away without speaking to either of my parents for at least a few months. Why would my mother call me? What motive did she have? She didn't care about me.

Blankly, I stared at the text message, reading it and rereading it in hopes that the text would somehow change to read a different message, to be nothing more than a friendly greeting from my little sister.

But no, no matter how many times I read the text message, the words remained the same.

There was only one thing I could do. Wait.

The seconds dragged by, each one feeling like an hour. My phone lay silently next to me, though it seemed to grow bigger with each passing minute. It was almost as though it was taunting me, for it knew that I could do nothing about my present situation. I could turn off the wretched thing, but my mother would throw a hissy fit if I didn't answer, thinking I was avoiding her. In her perfect little world, I didn't have a reason to be angry with her. After all, she was _'helping'_ me get over my supposed mental illness. My parents had known about my insomnia for years, and had never done anything about _that, _but the moment anything they thought was too abnormal about me they had sprung into action.

Sighing, I leaned against my pillows and rubbed my forehead, my anxiety level gradually growing. Why couldn't it just _ring_ already? I almost wished that I'd had no warning. I could have been saved all of this unnecessary stress. Then again, if I'd been taken completely off guard by the call, I probably wouldn't have been able to make words come out of my mouth.

What felt like a lifetime later, my phone finally rang, my ringtone breaking the silence, and buzzed across my bed. I hesitated before grabbing it and pressing it to my ear, not entirely sure I wanted to go through with this, but it was better now than later. I couldn't hide forever.

"Hello?" I asked formally, despite the fact I knew exactly who it was. Giving Cynthia away would only mean bad things for her.

"Mary?" my mom demanded. "Yes, it's you, of course it is..."

I ground my teeth together. She had called me Alice all my life. Since when had I become _Mary? _The last person I could remember calling me Mary before I had come to Forks had been my preschool class' student teacher.

"Yes, it's _Alice,_" I confirmed dryly.

"How are things over there in Forks?" she asked casually, ignoring my correction. I wondered what she was getting at - she wouldn't have called just to check up on me. Actually caring was out of character for her.

"Fantastic," I deadpanned, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "How's Cynthia holding up?"

There was a moment of silence. I automatically assumed the worst. Just as I opened my mouth to voice my accusations, my mother said, "She's okay. A little lonely, though. We're considering sending her to public school so she can make some friends."

I bit my lip, wondering how well my sister would adapt to the change. She, like myself, wasn't exactly fond of big changes. It took me longer to react to things, though. She would go right into hysterics if something changed that she couldn't handle. I, on the other hand, would bottle it all up for days, even weeks, and once I couldn't hold my emotions in any longer, I broke down.

"Great," was all I could manage to say, unsure of what I felt. Where was Jasper when I needed him? He would have been able to tell me exactly what my emotions were.

Another long stretch of silence. I didn't want to be the one to break it. Momentarily, I hoped that she'd hung up, or fallen asleep, or _something_, but no, eventually my mother spoke. "Don't forget that your first appointment with Dr. Campbell is on Monday, dear."

That set me off. Dear? She thought she could call me _dear?_ After all of the things she'd let happen to me, she still thought she was entitled to the right of calling me _dear?_

"_Dear?_ Don't bother pretending to care - you and I both know that you don't," I spat, my grip on the phone tightening until my knuckles turned white.

"Alice, you know that he - _we -_ only did what we did for your own good. We didn't want our oldest daughter to suffer-"

I cut her off. "You still think you can call me your daughter, after all of this? No, you more or less disowned me when you sent me here. You have no right to call me your daughter anymore, _Sally._"

"I'm sorry. Your father-" she paused, as though she weren't sure she wanted to continue, "-_and_ I didn't want to do what we did, but we had to," my mom said softly. I didn't believe her for a second. If she cared, if she _really cared, _she would have never let my dad send me here. She would have stood up for me. "I miss you."

I was beyond furious, though I knew my fury was unjustly directed at her. Only a fool would have been able to miss the underlying pain in her words, but, honestly? I didn't have it in me to forgive her for what she let happen. She had just _let _my dad send me away. How could she miss me if she hadn't tried to stop him?

"Yeah, save your remorse for someone who believes it."

Not giving her the chance to respond, I snapped my phone shut and threw it down onto the bed - I must have stood up at some point during the conversation. My arms were shaking, and my desire to tear something apart was stronger than I could recall it ever having been before in my life.

How _dare_ she phone me, just thinking she could waltz back into my life, uninvited? Had I not made it clear I wanted nothing to do with her - with _them -_ anymore?

I stood staring at my duvet for a few moments, seething, before finally deciding that being cooped up in the Weber house would accomplish nothing except perhaps scaring the living daylights out of every single human being in the vicinity with my building anger. Breathing deeply, I forced my legs carry me in the general direction of my bedroom's door, twisting the doorknob with more force than necessary and stomping down the stairs.

"I'm going out," I told my aunt curtly. She looked up from the dishes and nodded, her expression twisting into one of confusion as she registered my mood. "I don't know when I'll be back, so don't worry about me."

Not waiting for a response, I stormed out the front door, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over. Why did I always have to cry? Why couldn't I keep control of myself, like everyone else? After all, if I had self-control, I would be in Forks in the first place. Perhaps I _did_ need this treatment from Dr. Campbell, just for different reasons than my parents believed. I wasn't crazy as they were convinced I was.

Was I?

I was almost positive that I couldn't have just dreamt up Jasper on my own when I was fifteen. The odds were stacked against _that_ possibility. And yet, I couldn't help but wonder...

Without realizing it, I had walked quite far into the forest bordering the house. Clenching and unclenching my fists, I kicked at a bush, sending the raindrops resting there flying through the air. Why was I doubting myself now? For years I'd been so sure of myself, so positive that I was simply different. And now... it was pathetic. _I _was pathetic,

Whatever was watching over me certainly wasn't feeling generous. Was it not enough to tear away my old life away? Did I have to have the sense of security I had been lulled into snatched away as well? My beliefs? Did all that have to be taken away, too?

Lashing out at shrubbery wasn't accomplishing anything, I realized. In fact, I could feel my chest tightening painfully, and my breathing was quickening with each step I took. I let out a sob, feeling more than desperate. Now was _not _the time for my asthma to act up. I'd left my inhaler back at the Webers' house.

Instead of putting any more strain on myself than necessary, I gave into myself, for once, and allowed myself to crumple into a heap beside a tree, the effort of staying on my feet not seeming worth it.

I don't know how long I sat there, curled into a ball amongst the mud and grass, and I wasn't entirely sure when it had begun to rain, or if it had really begun to rain at all, and I was just covered in sweat and tears.

What I did know, however, was that when I opened my eyes, night had fallen, and I was no longer alone.

"Jasper?" I peered up at the tall figure in front of me.

"Alice?" His surprised tone matched mine exactly.

"Go 'way," I muttered, turning my face back into my knees.

I could practically feel his determination. No one ever listened to me. "No, I'm not leaving you out here. Come on." A split second later, two strong arms lifted me from the ground. I struggled weakly for a few moments before deciding that it wasn't worth the effort. What use would it be to resist a vampire, anyways?

"Where are we going?" I asked weakly, my chattering teeth making it hard to speak.

Unfortunately, I never got an answer, for before I could even stumble in whatever direction we were heading in, I had collapsed from exhaustion.


	10. Alice

**Insomnia**

Chapter 10

It took me several seconds to figure out that the screaming that had woken me up was coming from me. It took me another ten seconds to calm down enough to close my mouth and cut off the alarming sound.

Taking a shaky breath, I opened my eyes and immediately realized that I had no clue where I was. The last thing I could remember was being dragged to my feet by Jasper.

I glanced around me, and quickly realized that I was in a living room of sorts. I was sitting on a beige leather couch, a thick, fluffy duvet taking up the parts of the long piece of furniture that I didn't. I was shivering despite the fact that I was no long in my soaking wet clothes, clad now in a sweater that was about ten times too big, and too-long plaid pajama bottoms.

In my peripheral vision, I caught a flash movement, and instinctively turned to face it. Jasper had quite literally appeared out of nowhere, and was now standing next to the couch. Instead of being startled, I felt relieved - I wasn't alone in this strange place. My relief only lasted for a few moments, though, when I remembered why I was in this alien room in the first place.

Reality came crashing down upon me, forcing me out of my dreamy state. I barely choked back a sob. Losing it in front of Jasper _again_ was not acceptable. But, once more, I lost my grip on myself and broke down in tears, hiding my face in my knees in some foolish hope that he would overlook this and act as though I was fine, even though I clearly was not. Fate seemed to take pity on me, because I did manage to restrain myself enough to prevent the sobs building in my chest from breaking through.

I wasn't sure how long Jasper sat with unending patience beside me, but eventually I was calm enough to speak coherently.

"Where am I?" I sniffled, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of the large grey sweater, wondering why I even bothered trying to pretend I was okay. He was, after all, an empath.

"My living room. You're wearing Bella's clothes - we didn't have anything in your size," he explained apologetically. I nodded slowly, taking in the information. So I might get to meet the compassionate Carlisle and Esme he had once spoken so fondly of. My outlook brightened considerably, though immediately darkened once more as I was overcome by a coughing fit. Yet again, I had been stupid and gotten myself sick.

"Ugh," I groaned, my chest aching, moreso than usual, "just what I needed."

"Yes, Carlisle thinks you have pneumonia." Jasper frowned. "What were you doing that far into the woods, anyways?"

"I honestly didn't notice. For all I knew, I could've taken three steps out of the front door." I paused, before adding, "I was a bit upset."

He remained silent, respectful of my earlier wishes. Earlier I had wanted to keep the subject from coming up, but now I just wanted _someone_ to know. "Go on. I can't keep it to myself anymore."

"What happened to you, Alice?" he asked, much like he had on the night I had waited for him on the curb. It was obvious that he wasn't just asking about what had upset me recently - he understood that I was hurt, and deeply. It wasn't just some petty drama with my family. It was more than that, and we both knew it. What pained me the most was that it was _my fault. _I had let everything build up inside of me, escalate to the breaking point, and now I was paying the price.

"I've told you before that it's a long story. So don't say that I didn't warn you," I cautioned.

"Something's hurting you. I want to know what it is," Jasper encouraged.

I sucked in a deep breath before beginning. "Well, it started at a young age. Everything does. As I've told you, I've always had precognitive dreams. They were more frequent when I was younger - nowadays I only have them about fifty-five percent of the time. I never told anyone about them, even as a child, for reasons I can't remember. A few years ago, I told my little sister, Cynthia, everything. I couldn't keep it to myself any longer, and she was the person I trusted the most in the world. I had done everything with her - she's my best friend. Always has been. I looked after her a lot when she was younger, because my mom was always exhausted and my dad went to work early in the morning and was home late at night.

"A few years ago, Ibecame the early riser. I was convinced that if I didn't sleep, I would be normal. I wanted to be free of my ability. My parents didn't know anything about it, but sometimes I caught the way my father would look at me, like he knew I was different. I tried to meet his approval, but sometimes it felt like nothing I did was right. We argued a lot. I thought that maybe if I didn't I didn't sleep, I wouldn't have my visions, and we might finally get along. It was hard at first to keep myself awake, but eventually I fell into a pattern. I didn't realize what I was doing to myself - all that I knew was that what I was doing was working. For a while, I was almost rid of my visions.

"At one point, I found it impossible to stay awake. That was a few days before my grandmother died. I was terrified of my dreams, then - no one wants to fall asleep and dream of horrific car crashes. I hadn't realized it at the time, but I was witnessing my own grandmother's death before it happened. I tried everything to stay awake during that time: drinking pots upon pots of coffee, pinning my eyes open, dumping ice down my back..." I paused, hesitant about telling him the next part. I wasn't proud of what I had done to myself. "I... I even cut myself a few times, hoping that the pain would keep me from dozing off." Almost without thinking about what I was doing, I traced the long scars that ran along my arm with the tips of my fingers, though they were concealed now by the sweater I wore. Jasper's expression darkened.

"Nothing worked, and I was about ready to give up, but right after my grandma's funeral I fell back into my old habits again," I continued. "I was thrilled at first, but I knew I would have to sleep _sometime_, and that frightened me. I had convinced myself by that point that my parents would no longer want me if they found out I was psychic. I knew that someday I would see something and be unable to keep it to myself, sure, but I until that time I was willing to do anything to keep my secret just that, a secret. Of course, my parents didn't seem to mind that I had insomnia, so after a while I began to wonder if they really would care at all, or if they would just ignore it like they ignored all of my other quirks. I tried to sleep again, but it was virtually impossible to rewire my brain. So, for the next five years, I learned to live with the consequences of my actions. I strived to do well in school, working late into the night on assignments for lack of better things to do, and I tried my hardest to give my sister the life I had deprived myself of. It worked, for a while. I felt almost happy.

"One day, my father and I were arguing again. I had gone off without his permission at night, finally having had enough of being cooped up in my room every night, and I don't really know what happened, but when he asked what my problem was, everything kind of just... spilled out. He just kind of stared at me for a while, and then his inner doctor seemed to switch on and he was calmly asking me what other 'visions' I'd had. After that, he went and talked to my mom for a long time. I was hysterical - I knew what they would be talking about. All of my worst nightmares were coming true.

"The next morning, my parents sat me down at the dining table and presented me with two alternatives: either I attend a nearby school for the mentally ill, or I fly here to receive treatment from the world-class psychiatrist, Dr. Campbell. At that point, I was beyond furious and wanted nothing more than to be out of there. I didn't even consider Cynthia before I told them I wanted to come here.

"My mom called just before you found me. She thought she would phone to remind me of my first psychiatric appointment on Monday. I think she expected me to be happy that she'd called, to welcome her back with open arms. She hasn't tried to make any contact with me since I left, so I just assumed that she was content to ignore me and stay out of my life for as long as possible. I was wrong, obviously. Now I'm doubting myself, wondering if I really _am _crazy - it almost makes sense that I am. I've destroyed my own life by letting my selfishness control everything. I haven't even spoken to my sister since I left. I'm a horrible person, Jasper," I finished quietly, a few tears slipping down my cheeks. I hurriedly brushed them away.

I didn't bother looking up as Jasper wrapped an arm around me and pulled me to his side. I leaned into his chest, not bothered by the silence between us in the least. In fact, if I'd been given the choice, I would have liked for the moment never to end. He made me feel more secure than I had in weeks. That, and this was the closest I'd ever been to him before.

"You're not, you know," he murmured. I understood what he meant, but I didn't believe him. Unfortunately for me, he could sense my mood as easily as I could. "Don't doubt yourself, Alice. You did nothing to deserve any of what's happened you, and you owe it to yourself to live life to its fullest from now on. If you're not willing to do that for yourself, I will personally ensure that it is done for you by someone, somewhere."

I wished I could believe him. If only he understood that I had done _everything _to deserve what had happened to me, what I had _let _happen to me...

With a sigh, I said, "Believe me, I've tried. It's not easy, not for me, anyways. I don't know if I even _can_ anymore."

He pulled back to look me in the eyes. "You can." I was surprised by the confidence in his voice. "I've seen flickers of what you were like. You're still in there, somewhere, but you're pushing it back. Every time you start to open up, something turns on inside you and you shrink back into your shell."

So he'd noticed. I'd been trying hard to appear normal in my short time in Forks, but apparently not hard enough. No matter what I said or did, I would always be different from the norm. If I had been meant to be normal, why would I have been given my accursed second sight?

"I know." I looked down at my hands before adding in a smaller voice, "I try, Jasper, really, but it will never be enough. Maybe there's something wrong with me."

Jasper propped me up so that I was facing him again. "There is _nothing _wrong with you."

I looked down, avoiding his eyes. He sighed, and then let me lay down again, realizing that he wasn't going to get a response out of me, let alone change my mind. I curled into him, closing my eyes.

I slept on and off for the rest of the afternoon, drifting almost happily in and out of consciousness, ignoring my pounding headache and trying to pretend that I wasn't sick.

Still half-asleep, I vaguely registered the conversation going on around me.

"I _think_ she's okay. I mean, she doesn't feel too sick. But that's probably because she's resting," said a voice that I easily identified to belong to Jasper.

"Would you mind waking her up so we can be sure? I wouldn't want her to become more ill than she is," another male voice replied, one that I didn't recognize.

"Oh, she's awake. Barely, though."

Moments later, I felt a pair of strong arms propping me up. I sighed, but allowed myself to be moved. "You don't seem to grasp the importance of sleep, Jasper," I griped, "seeing as you don't need it and all."

He grinned in apology. "Sorry, but _someone_ needs to make sure you're not fatally ill."

I turned to look at the blonde man standing in front of us, assuming that he was Jasper's adoptive father. "You must be Carlisle. I'm Alice," I introduced myself, leaning forwards slightly to extend a hand, which he shook with a hand that was about twice the size of mine.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." He smiled down at me briefly before turning and rummaging through a bag that I hadn't noticed earlier. I couldn't help but wonder where the 'finally' had come from - it made it sound as though I was someone who _mattered, _someone worth thinking about.

Seconds later, he emerged with a miniature flashlight clasped between his fingers. "Now, Alice, open your mouth and say 'ah'," he instructed, shining the light down my throat.

He finished the checkup quickly, though it was delayed somewhat by the fact that halfway through I began coughing again. It was, thankfully, controllable, though it further confirmed the suspicion that I did, indeed, have pneumonia. Carlisle, as if reading my mind, announced that I had been stricken with the illness, and that it would be best for me to stay home from school for a few days. I scowled, internally cursing myself for being so stupid.

Not that it was anything out of the ordinary.

"I really need to stop going out in the rain," I sighed. "I hate to think what would've happened if you hadn't found me. You never did tell me how you managed that, anyways." I eyed Jasper suspiciously. "How is it that you always find me in the worst state possible?"

Jasper waved a hand in the general direction of Carlisle's retreating form. "We heard someone wandering around, farther into the woods than usual, and I was nominated by Carlisle to be the one to go and make sure no one died," he explained. "You just happened to be the first person I saw. I assumed it was you we heard."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah, that was probably me." Pausing, I glanced down at the clothes that hung about two inches from my body. Scowling, I said, "Believe it or not, I _am_ capable of looking like a normal human being. I'll have to thank Esme for picking up some more fitting clothes when she gets back from Port Angeles," I added, not seeing anything wrong with my statement until I noticed the strange look Jasper was giving me.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm still getting used to the fact you're psychic. I keep forgetting," admitted Jasper, ducking his head embarrassedly.

"Oh." I gazed at him thoughtfully for a few seconds. "Do you find it weird? I could try to keep my mouth shut," I offered.

He shot me an odd look. "No, I don't find it weird at all. I think it's a wonderful gift to be blessed with."

"Well, _I _find it weird," I said. "But I guess my visions are good in some ways - I hardly ever run out of things to draw in my free time, providing I've dreamt recently. It's really boring being the only person awake in the house - I tend go through sketchbooks quickly for lack of better things to do." Automatically, I glanced around me, only to realize that my sketchbook was back at the Webers' house, along with various other things I would have liked to have had. I resisted the urge to pout.

Jasper seemed to read my mind. "We have some paper that you could use, if you'd like," he said. Though I would have liked more than anything to have something to draw on, I hesitated.

"Wouldn't that be boring for you, though?"

He shook his head, his expression almost eager. "I actually like watching you draw," he admitted, his tone a trifle embarrassed. "It's interesting."

I fought to hide how happy that simple fact made me, but soon enough a grin had spread across my face. It was rather silly that such a small thing could cheer me up so entirely, but I didn't care. I was happy, purely so, and I was damn well going to enjoy the feeling while it was here.

"Well then, in that case, you'd have my undying gratitude if you could provide paper," I told him. He disappeared for a split second, faster than I had time to blink twice, returning with a reasonably sized pad of paper and a sketching pencil. I squealed happily, throwing my arms around him as I did to anyone who caught me in a moment of joy.

"Oops." I blushed. "Sorry. It's sort of an automatic reflex."

He merely chuckled and sat down beside me.

Thoroughly looking forward to drawing the beautiful woman from one of the many short dreams I had experienced today, otherwise known as Esme Cullen, I immediately set to drawing a rough outline.

Not long after I began adding the finer details of the drawing the very woman in question poked her head into the room, her eyes glowing as she glanced between Jasper and I. My face immediately lit up at mere sight of the distinctly motherly figure.


	11. Safe

**Insomnia**

Chapter 11 

Promptly after shy greeting, Esme rushed me out of the living room and into their guest bathroom, telling me that I would never get better if I didn't warm myself up. Vampires, as it so turned out, were extremely cold creatures, and didn't turn their heat on because they wouldn't feel the change in temperature. It was only when I became aware of this that I realized that almost every time I had been in close proximity to Jasper, I had been cold myself, and hadn't noticed his freezing touch.

As I stood under the hot water of the shower, I was shocked to see all of the dirt and debris that swirled down the drain. I hadn't felt it, too wrapped up in my own thoughts. I _had_ been sitting in mud, after all, and it only made sense that I would be covered in it. I must have looked a mess - it was a wonder that I hadn't been thrown into the shower the moment I had woken up.

Woken up. The two words were music to my ears. Today I had slept more than I could remember doing soin years. Most humans loathed the time when they would wake up, but they didn't seem to realize they had been given the luxury of being able to wake up in the first place. Moving to Forks, it appeared, might actually have been a good thing, seeing as since moving here I had managed to get to sleep a surprising amount of times. Of course, it probably had something to do with being sick, but if that was what it took for me to function properly, the pain was worth it.

_Getting sick so you can sleep is _not _functioning properly, _I reminded myself. Being constantly ill and missing school would definitely not have a positive influence on my life. Scowling at my thoughts, I scrubbed the rather expensive shampoo that Esme had insisted that I use into my hair with much more force than necessary. Was I never going to lead a normal life? I knew the answer to that one already; no, I could never lead a normal life. I was in love with a vampire, for crying out loud.

Boy, I sure knew how to pick them.

Eventually, I stopped shivering, and forced myself to turn off the shower, though I wanted nothing more than to stand there and be warm forever. Winter was approaching, and fast. I absolutely _loathed _the cold; not only was it extremely uncomfortable, but it only made my asthma so much worse than it already was. At least the clothes Esme had brought me looked warm.

Thankful that Jasper had such a thoughtful mother, I towel-dried my short hair, knowing that it would fall into its natural spikes on its own, and slipped into the soft clothes that had been set out for me.

Esme had also picked up various other toiletries, such as a hairbrush, a toothbrush, and, bless her, makeup. Just because I was sick didn't mean I had to look it. Carefully, I applied my usual amount of makeup, cheered greatly as I gradually began to look like my normal self once more.

Beaming at my reflection, I gave my hair one final rub and then dropped the fluffy towel I had been using into the laundry hamper, pausing for only a moment to wonder if the human scent would bother the rest of the family.

As I made my way from the bathroom, I noticed black and white pictures lining the hallway's walls, and skidded to a halt. Being the overwhelmingly curious creature I was, sometimes to the point of childishness, I simply had to poke my nose into everything.

The particular picture I was looking at had to be quite old, I decided, for they were all dressed in styles that I recognized to be from the early 1950s. The Cullen men sported bowler hats and suits, and were all grinning goofily at the camera, with the exception of Carlisle. The girls, on the other hand, were slightly more dignified, their smiles small and their hair pinned back in elegant hairstyles. It was almost eerie to see that each family member looked exactly the same as their present self, almost as though they had merely been photographed yesterday.

"I could never get them to smile nicely," a wistful voice came from behind me. I started slightly, surprised by the sudden break in the silence.

Jasper's adoptive mother stood behind me, smiling fondly at the photo. "I'll get a good picture one of these days."

"I think it's neat," I told her. "Seeing you all dressed in what would be considered to be vintage nowadays, I mean."

"It is quite interesting, isn't it? Time goes by quickly, so I like to capture the memories so that we'll never forget who we are, no matter what we go through," she murmured. "Although, I would like to have one with the boys just smiling nicely for once, but I don't think that will happen. They are, after all, trapped in teenage bodies forever, and with that comes the teenage mind." Esme sighed, her eyes far off as she relived one memory or another. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was intruding upon something private. Seeming to sense my unease, Esme snapped back to reality. "Maybe you'll be able to bring some sense into them."

I blinked at her, startled. "Me?"

She nodded. "Yes, I think you will be very good for Jasper, even if you don't see it yet."

I struggled to find a way to tell her she had it backwards, that _he_ was helping _me_, not the other way around, but at that moment" pneumonia seemed to decide that it wasn't getting enough attention, for I was sent into a fit of coughing.

_Please let this pass quickly, _I begged silently. Not only had I left my inhaler at the Webers' house, but I hardly knew Esme, and she probably wouldn't know what to do, seeing as I didn't exactly go around boasting about my asthma.

But, no, my lungs decided that they weren't on my side today, and before long it became apparent that I wasn't going to be able to stop coughing anytime soon. Instead of the tightness in my chest lessening over time, it was progressively getting worse, as though concrete were hardening around my lungs.

Esme's eyes widened worriedly, her hands fluttering uselessly over my aching body. I threw her an apologetic look as I tried unsuccessfully to breathe properly. My asthma attacks were rare, yes, but when I did have them they were usually quite bad and gave absolutely no warning. It was probably acting up today because I hadn't taken my daily dose of medicine yesterday before I had stormed out of the Webers' house, and today I had been too preoccupied to even think about my respiration problem.

"Carlisle!" Esme's voice rang clearly throughout the house. Within moments, the blonde doctor appeared by her side.

"Alice, do you have asthma?" he asked, getting right down to business, for which I was immensely grateful.

I nodded weakly, struggling to fight back the uncontrollable coughs. "Intrinsic, I think," I managed to squeak between coughs.

"Esme, try to keep her relaxed while I go upstairs and get her a reliever inhaler," Carlisle instructed briskly, disappearing without any further notice. Esme rubbed my back soothingly, doing her best to relax my muscles. I wished I could regain my breath to thank her. I wondered, for a moment, if this was what mothers were supposed to act like. At home my parents had dismissed anything such as this, convinced that I would get over it on my own one way or another. I always had, yes, but reassurance would have been nice once in a while.

Not a minute passed before Jasper's father had reappeared, holding an inhaler that looked very similar to that of the one I had left on my dresser. I eagerly stretched forwards to grab it, gratefully inserting the device into my mouth and inhaling the mist as best I could. I could gradually feel my lungs loosening, allowing more and more oxygen to flow in and out of them.

I smiled sheepishly at the two vampires watching me. "Thank you," I said earnestly, sure that my face was pink from the effort of coughing.

"It's no problem, dear," Esme assured me. "You can't control how your lungs react to certain things."

"You may not want to go out for a few days, until you've begun to recover from your pneumonia. You'll only have more attacks," Carlisle advised. I shuddered, the mere thought of suffering another asthma attack making me want to curl up and die.

"How am I going to get back to the Webers' house?" I wondered aloud. "I walked halfway through the forest, according to Jasper, and I don't know my way around Forks."

"You can stay here, of course," said Esme.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to be a burden," I hasted to say. "I'll find a way to get back." In reality, I was sure that I would end up wandering through Forks for hours before I made it back to the Weber house.

"You wouldn't be a burden, not at all!" she exclaimed. "I would love to have another child to care for, and it's really best that you're close to Carlisle in case your pneumonia gets worse."

I bit my lip, though I nodded slowly in agreement. "If you _really_ don't mind..." As usual, I was reluctant to let other people care for me. After looking after myself for years, I wasn't entirely sure I could trust others to do it for me. I was self-reliant, perhaps unhealthily so.

Esme positively beamed at me. "Now, let's get some food into you, shall we? You look awfully pale." She gently took ahold of my hand and towed me off to the kitchen, waving away my guilty protests as though they were nothing. The guilt remained in the pit of my stomach right up until the moment the kitchen became filled with the mouthwatering scent of a soup that I didn't quite catch the name of.

I watched her bustle about, humming happily to herself as she became absorbed in her cooking. I looked on from the breakfast bar, unable to help but wonder where I would be had my own mother been even half as nurturing as Esme appeared to be. Not here, certainly. I would never have gone out into the forest, and therefore never would have wound up sitting in the Cullens' kitchen. A small part of me knew that I would still be in Forks, however. Nurturing or not, my parents would have sought out the best psychiatrist they could and sent me to them, and that psychiatrist was in Washington.

My life was just one downhill road, wasn't it? I sighed quietly, resting my chin on my arm. Being positive was easier said than done, I decided. If Jasper kept to his word, he was in for a long and grueling task, attempting to make me live life to its fullest.

"Oh, here comes Jasper with the groceries," Esme suddenly said, jerking me from my thoughts. I raised an eyebrow; from what I had been able to tell, their fridge was well stocked. For a houseful of vampires, anyways.

Moments later, what I assumed was the door leading to the garage banged open, revealing a pair of legs and a mountain of grocery bags. I covered my mouth with my hand to muffle my laughter - never before in my life had I seen anyone carrying so many bags at one time. In fact, I wouldn't have been surprised if it turned out that he had bought out the entire grocery store, seeing as it wasn't too large to begin with. The bags nearest the top of the pile wobbled with each cautious step he took.

"Esme, I ask you this only out of concern for your mental health: what in the name of the lord are we gonna do with all of this food?" Jasper asked, his voice slightly muffled by the plastic bags.

"What anyone would do with food, dear," Esme responded absently, poking her wooden spoon into the pot that the wonderful aroma of food was coming from.

Slowly, Jasper began to place the white bags onto the kitchen counter. By the time he had completely unloaded the bags from his arms, almost every square inch of counter surface was covered by groceries. I had to admit that he'd had a point when he had asked what they were going to do with all of that - the Cullens didn't, after all, eat.

Going by my years of experience at home, I decided to keep my mouth shut and go with whatever the parents of the house had decided was best. I had learned that questioning certain things got you a one-way ticket to trouble. In the Brandon household, anyways. I prided myself in my ability to avoid trouble these days. Perhaps some good had come from living in Biloxi after all.

Coming back to earth, I found myself staring at two blurs rushing around the kitchen at a speed that my weak human eyes couldn't quite follow.

After blinking several times, my eyes adjusted just enough to be able to make out the colors that made up the blurs. Upon closer inspection, I could tell that the blue blur was Jasper, the brownish one being Esme.

At least, I _thought_ so. It was more than slightly difficult to tell. One second, either Esme or Jasper would be standing next to the fridge, and the next second they would be standing on the complete opposite side of the kitchen. I felt disoriented, so instead of letting the feeling persist I hid my face under my arm to render seeing impossible, no matter howsilly I felt in doing so.

I can't have stayed like that for long, at the pace the two vampires were moving. Eventually, the sounds of items being put away stopped, and I hesitantly peeked out from under my arm. It appeared to be safe, so I decided that I could come out of hiding for the time being.

Apparently, I had decided wrong, for moments later Jasper had, for lack of a better, more grammatically correct term, poofedto my side.

"Gah!" I cried. "Would you stop _doing_ that?"

"Doing what?" he asked, confused.

"Appearing out of thin air! I'm going to have a heart attack one of these days. You're so _fast," _I complained, shaking my head and laughing in spite of myself, having caught sight of his almost childishly abashed expression.

"Sorry," he apologized. "It must be strange for you."

"Strange?" I scoffed. "I got used to strange a long time ago. For the first time in my life, I'm not the only freak in the house. It's quite nice, actually," I said. "Although, it is slightly disorienting, watching you run around."

"Sorry," he apologized again, though this time he was smiling, having realized I wasn't truly upset.

I shrugged. "If you'll put up with my inability to sleep and weird visions when I _do_ sleep, I think I can put up with a small amount of dizziness."

Esme glanced back at us. "You can't sleep?"

"Yeah, with my chronic insomnia and premonitions, I'm kind of mental health problem central," I said, trying and failing not to scowl. "I'm getting better, though," I added more brightly. And so I was. Slowly, my will to lead a normal, happy life was returning.

I continued after a thoughtful silence, an amusing thought having occurred to me. "If I ever sleep normally again, do I get to wear a creepy Professor Trelawney outfit and run around shrieking prophecies at people?" I asked before biting my lip, wondering if my reference to my precognitive dreams was too casual, before remembering that I was in a house that was usually occupied by an empath, a mind-reader, and a mental shield. In a way, it was almost a relief to be able to joke about my visions, though it felt strange at the same time. I never would have dared to do such a thing at home.

"Anything, my little fortune teller," Jasper promised, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and giving them a light squeeze.

I felt a thrill run through my body at the way he called me 'his', and beamed up at him.

For once in my life, it felt as though things were going to be okay.

And so they would be, for a time.


	12. Coward

**Insomnia**

Chapter 12

I stared at my reflection, trying and failing to flatten my spiky hair almost obsessively. Standing still was too difficult a task, I had discovered, and I was running out of things to do to keep myself moving. I had smoothed my shirt so many times that it sat so perfectly against my form that I might as well have taken an iron to it.

It was still beyond me why I was getting so worked up about this. I didn't need to look good - it wasn't like I was going to a conference or out on a date. I was sure people slumped into the office looking like they had just rolled out of bed. And yet I didn't care. Something inside me cared. Wanted to prove something.

In a way, it was almost like I was trying to beat my parents. If I could prove to this psychiatrist that I was normal, or as close to normal as someone like me I could be, then I would have won this battle. If I could _just make this work, _maybe, just maybe, I could be myself again. I wanted so badly to go back to the way I once had been, but at this point I didn't know if I _could - _I had become too set in my ways over the years.

Honestly? I believed Jasper deserved better. I wanted to be myself not only for me, but for him. I couldn't be the way I was if I was going to be allowed to love him. If I was playing by my own rules, anyways. I didn't want to hurt him, too. Bringing others down with me was _not_ acceptable.

"Ugh! I give up!" I cried, my hand dropping to my side defeatedly. There was no getting my spikes to lie flat. I had known that my attempts would be in vain from the start, but that hadn't stopped me. I needed to keep myself busy, or I would begin to panic.

Weren't psychiatrists and therapists and the like supposed to _help _their patients? I hadn't even _met_ this Dr. Campbell yet and he was already causing me more stress than could possibly be healthy.

It wasn't his fault, I knew, that my life was turning out the way it was, but who else was there to take it out on at this point? Try as I might not to blame him, I knew that I still would. It was unfair to place blame on this innocent man, yes, but when had I ever been fair? Had he never gone into this business, my parents never would have called up and booked me my first round of appointments. Had he never gone into this business, my parents mightn't have found anyone to treat me.

And _that _was how irrational my hatred of this man was.

A part of me knew that I would be far more miserable living in Biloxi than I was in Forks. In Biloxi, I would be confined to my house most of the time, I was sure, as my parents would be monitoring my every move as they had done for the weeks leading up to my move to Washington. It had been a rare occasion to be left alone in a room with Cynthia when one of them was home. If they were going out, they had always tried to bring Cynthia along, claiming that she was 'too young' to stay home with just her sister for company, an excuse that I had only just managed to keep myself from countering with the fact that I had been staying home alone with her since before it was legal for either of us to be doing such.

Yes, in a way my life in Forks allowed me to be more carefree and happy than I could have ever been in Biloxi. No matter what I told myself, I still felt the ache in the pit of my stomach: I wanted to go home.

With a sigh, I turned away from the mirror and slowly made my way towards my bed, where my purse lay. I didn't know why I was bringing it, as I wouldn't be buying anything and I didn't need a place to put car keys, seeing as Aunt Kathy would be driving me to and from my appointment. I really wished I could drive myself, but I was without a car, or any way to save up for a car; try as I might, I couldn't find a job, or anywhere to apply for a job, for that matter. Forks was a tiny town, and tiny towns didn't tend to have a lot of job opportunities.

Grabbing the thick strap of my purse, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment. I could do this. I could. I had survived worse. _Far _worse. This psychiatrist couldn't make me tell him anything, I reminded myself. There was no forcing information out of me. I could just sit there in stony silence until my hour was up if I so chose.

My feet dragging with every step, I eventually found my way downstairs, where I waited nervously at the front door, uneasily rocking back and forth, alternating my weight from my toes to my heels.

_Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth- _

Aunt Kathy's appearance interrupted my almost hypnotic movements. Blinking, I jerked back to reality, hardly hearing her cheerful, "Ready to go?"

I was numb, blocking out any emotions threatening to make themselves known. It was probably better this way - if I could just stay in this zombified state, I would make it through this appointment without snapping. That's all I needed to do.

The ride there was quiet, mostly thanks to me, I was sure. It was more than likely that my aunt had said something and not received a response, me being too busy trying to keep any unwanted emotions from rearing their ugly heads.

I broke the silence only to instruct her to drop me off in front of the little convenience store a few blocks away from Dr. Campbell's office. My parents had, surprisingly enough, kept the Webers in the dark about why I was in Forks, exactly. They knew I was here to get something that was unattainable in Biloxi, yes, but my parents hadn't told them what it was. Maybe they did have some ounce of goodness in their hearts after all, though I was reluctant to believe that. It was more likely that they didn't want to admit that they had a 'mentally unstable' daughter to anyone that didn't absolutely have to know.

If I'd just kept my mouth shut, _no one _would 'absolutely have to know'.

Once my aunt had driven safely out of sight, me having assured her that I would be fine and would call her when I needed to be picked up, I more or less ran the entire way to the office, enjoying the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair, leaving it a disarrayed mess. My previous determination to look my best for this faceless psychiatrist had been all but forgotten - what did it matter, anyways? He already thought I was crazy, what harm could walking in soaked to the core and looking like I had just stepped out of a tornado do?

Well, there went my whole 'emotionless' approach. Strangely, I found that I didn't care. Nothing mattered right now except that the moment I had been dreading for months was mere minutes away. All I knew was that I had to believe that I could pull through this.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the wooden front door of the building, the sign in front of which I hadn't even bothered to read. I didn't need reminding of where I was going.

The moment I stepped inside, my cold dread returned.

I couldn't do this. Couldn't I just leave, turn around and act like I had the wrong building and never, ever return? I was an adult. I could legally do whatever I pleased.

But I knew that, really, I couldn't. That was just a title, a saying. Backing out of this would make me a coward, would mean that all the months I had spent worrying had been for nothing. Turning back now would just make me the person I had been in Biloxi once more. I couldn't be that frightened, awkward, cowardly little girl anymore. I just _couldn't. _Something in me would break if I allowed myself to return to that state.

Determination welling up inside of me, I somehow managed to make my legs carry me to the front desk, where I, though reluctantly, the coward inside of me still fighting for control, gave the kindly looking receptionist my full name. She directed me to the waiting area, which, I noticed, was empty, much to my relief. I didn't want to see what other kinds of people this man treated.

The clock on the wall seemed to be playing games with me. Sometimes the seconds ticked by quickly, far too quickly, and at other times they dragged by, each passing second feeling like an entire lifetime. I was beginning to wonder whether it was really me who needed this time with the psychiatrist - the clock seemed to be suffering from multiple personality disorder.

Finally, the receptionist poked her head around the wall separating the waiting area from the front foyer and told me that Dr. Campbell was ready for me. I didn't trust myself to say anything, so I simply nodded and stood, my grip on my purse so firm that my knuckles turned white.

It took all of my concentration just to make it to the door that I had been directed to by the woman, and once I reached it my hand froze to the doorknob, my inner coward refusing to go down without a fight, screaming at me to turn back.

Shoving my own protests aside, I twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open, surprised when a blast of warm air rushed to greet me. I had half expected the welcoming sense that the front office held would completely disappear once I was past this door, instead the style turning into that of an old insane asylum, where the patients were locked in cold, dark cells. But, no, the walls were painted the same shade of brown and there were pictures of flowers and other too-happy things lining the walls, which I completely ignored as I ascended the stairs, too focused on keeping myself calm to take notice of anything outside my own head for more than a split second.

Soon, far too soon, I found myself standing before the door with a plaque engraved simply **DR. L. CAMPBELL. **I sucked in a quick breath and closed my eyes, pushing open the door and giving myself no time to rethink my actions.

When I reopened my eyes, I was facing a room decorated similarly to the rest of the building - squashy brown chairs, a fireplace, caramel-brown walls, wooden furniture. It didn't look at all like a place where insane people would come to be treated. Instead, it reminded me of a place where you might find a family enjoying a quiet afternoon indoors.

After closing the door, I took a few hesitant steps towards the desk that a man that could only be Louis Campbell sat behind, his misty brown eyes appraising me.

"Hello, Mary Alice." His greeting was warm.

Automatically, I corrected him. "Alice. Just Alice."

"My apologies. Well, hello, Alice," amended the psychiatrist, his gaze unrelenting. I wondered if he expected me to respond. Friendliness was not something I was feeling at the moment. I didn't care how impolite I was being.

Eventually, it became obvious that I had no intention of responding. "Why don't you take a seat and tell me a little bit about yourself?"

I was careful as to what I said. Every word was cautious, and I was constantly on edge. Literally. I sat on the edge of my seat, anxiously awaiting the end of my this. The doctor seemed to sense my unease and kept the questions basic, asking what kind of school I had gone to before I had come to Forks and who my friends had been. The way he jotted down my responses unnerved me.

I should have expected the somewhat predictable question about my sleeping habits.

And yet I hadn't.

Why was it that I always seemed to miss the obvious?

My response was so curt that it was almost defensive. "I don't sleep."

"And why is that?" inquired Dr. Campbell.

I was on my feet now. Time was almost up - I could afford to miss a few minutes of my session.

"Because people like _you _and my parents have driven me to behave that way," I snapped. "I don't know what they've told you, but I'm not schizophrenic, or whatever they think I am. I can fix my own problems."

Without waiting for a response, I spun on my heel and wrenched open the door, feeling oddly satisfied at the soft _click _it made as it shut. A dramatic exit would have been unnecessary to the point of ridiculousness. I didn't need to make myself appear any more melodramatic than I already had. In more than some ways, I hated myself for being so exuberant. Why couldn't I be one of those people who just shoved their problems aside and ignored them and was content to live that way? If I could just get a grip on myself once in a while, I wouldn't bring all these problems upon myself.

As I tromped through the rain, my phone began to ring in my purse. I practically ripped open my bag, in no mood to speak to anyone, and rummaged through my things until my hand came into contact with the device.

I didn't need to look at the caller ID to know who was calling. One of my parents would surely want to ensure that I had actually bothered to go to my first appointment. Were they really dense enough to think that after Saturday's disaster that I would answer any of their calls?

And so, without further hesitation, I hurled my phone into the darkness that stretched ahead of me.

If only I could have solved all my problems so easily.

* * *

I was intentionally dragging out the writing process of my Biology work again.

I added as much detail as I possibly could, thinking and rethinking my answers through before putting them onto the paper, trying to ignore Jasper's concerned gaze. He knew what I was up to. I didn't want to think, let alone talk. If I could just keep myself busy, I wouldn't have the time to worry or reflect upon anything that had happened lately, or _ever. _

As it did every day, the time came that I could delay the end of my work session no longer. I set my pencil down with a sigh, resting my chin on my arm, drumming my fingers on the table in a complicated rhythm that required almost as much thought to keep up as my work had.

After several minutes of this, Jasper finally placed his hand on top of mine, stopping the rapid movement of my fingers. I twisted to look at him. "Can I help you?"

"Alice, you've been like this all week," he said, "and I have absolutely no clue what's wrong. It's actually sort of painful not knowing."

"It's my own fault," I muttered, scowling. "I'm just being overemotional, as usual. It's really nothing."

Jasper sighed resignedly, knowing that he wasn't going to get a straight answer out of me. I felt bad for keeping things from him, and even worse for causing him pain, but over time I had learned to keep my mouth shut about my emotions, and, even though I knew Jasper was only trying to be helpful, I was reluctant to open up and talk about anything. I wanted to handle everything by myself, a desire that would get me into trouble one day, I knew.

"Okay." He nodded slowly in acceptance. I silently thanked him for not prying. "But," he added, "don't think that I'm just going to let you be upset like this. We need to do something to get your mind off of things. Go out of town or something."

I raised an eyebrow, unable to help but smile. "Are you asking me out, Jasper Hale?"

He ran a hand through his hair embarrassedly and said, "I, um... yes. I guess I am."

The bell rang, and almost instantly more than half of the class was stampeding out the door, Emmett Cullen in the lead. I stood from my chair, scooping my books into my bag in one sweeping motion.

"Saturday night. 7:00." I grinned, stretching onto my tiptoes to tap his nose. "And don't be late!"


	13. Fractions

**Insomnia**

Chapter 13

For the second time that week, I found myself planted in front of a mirror, my eyes fixed determinedly on the strand of hair I was trying to put in place. This time around, however, I was not filled with dread and anxiety. No, I was excited, and a trifle nervous.

Slowly, painfully slowly, I drew my hand away from my hair, willing the spike I had just managed to put in place to stay that way. When it sprang back up, I sighed and rolled my eyes, giving up on the seemingly endless battle I fought with my hair.

Instead of resorting to hair gel or spray, I shook my head vigorously, allowing it to fall whatever way it wanted to. It looked more natural that way, anyhow. Dolling myself up had never been my forte - bucketloads of makeup and skimpy, skin-tight clothes just didn't work with someone of my stature.

"Alright," I said, mostly to my reflection.

Okay, so maybe talking to inanimate objects wasn't the best way to prove that I wasn't schizophrenic.

After twirling once in a circle to ensure that nothing was out of place in my appearance, I grinned and bounced out of the bathroom. As usual, I didn't have quite enough self-control to stand still or hide my excitement.

Tonight, for once, I was doing something planned, something _good. _Something that I wanted to do. For once, I wasn't fretting about what was to come. Jasper was right: this 'date', as we had decided to refer to it as, did take my mind of of things. If only I could always be like this, standing just on the outskirts of reality, the negative unable to puncture the little bubble of happiness that I had encased myself in.

I glanced at the clock. 6:58PM. Two minutes to go. Now, if I could just remember where I'd set my purse on Monday night... This wasn't even my house, and I had already somehow managed to lose something of vital importance. It wasn't unlike my scatterbrained self to lose something, no, but I failed to understand why I would have tossed one of my possessions any old place in this house, seeing as leaving a mess for the Webers to step around would only make me seem ungrateful, and oh-so much like every other teenager in the universe.

Eventually, I had to admit defeat. There was no way I was going to remember where I'd put it on my own.

After making sure all of the lights in my room were off, I - my good mood still unfaltering - skipped down the stairs, calling, "Angela, did you see where I put my p-"

I cut myself off as I skidded to a halt on the bottom step, my right foot still dangling in the air. Angela stood at the front door, her face pink and one of her hands still on the doorknob, in the company of none other than the very boy I was so eager to see.

"-urse?" I finished lamely, sounding more like I had developed a stutter than anything. "Hello, Jasper," I added, finally coming to my senses and hopping down onto the landing. He smirked.

"I thought you said not to be late?" he teased. I couldn't help it - I stuck my tongue out at him like the child I was.

"Hey, I'm the girl," I defended. "I'm _allowed _to be late, no matter what I said before. Now-" I turned to face Angela, ignoring Jasper's raised eyebrow. "-_have _you seen my purse? My memory's failed me again and I can't remember where I..." I trailed off after glancing at the kitchen. "Never mind. Hang on!"

I slipped into the kitchen, and, sure enough, my purse was slung over the back of one of the five dining chairs. I could remember, now, seeing the chair and I had just hung it there, not caring what happened to it and in no mood to put it away properly.

By the time I had returned, Angela had regained control of herself somewhat. I didn't blame her for being choked up - she was, after all, trying to be hospitable to a 6'3" vampire, and a rather charming one, at that. Had I been in her place I probably would have pawned the job off on someone else, looking for an excuse to leave and hyperventilate somewhere far, far away. Jasper was rather intimidating, after all. I couldn't honestly say that I was surprised by the wondering look she shot me, which clearly said, _How do you do it? _

"There," I announced, deciding to get the show on the road and save Angela some grief. "I've rescued my bag from the land of the lost." I held up my purse as proof. "See, I'm not completely hopeless."

Jasper eyed the glaringly obvious evidence of my inability to keep track of my own possessions with amusement, though he made no mention of it, simply saying, "If you're _sure _you've got your head screwed on tight enough, we can go, then?"

I glanced down to ensure that I was, in fact, wearing shoes (maybe checking my head, too wasn't such a bad idea, either) before agreeing and following him outside.

Once we'd closed the door behind us, I glowered up at Jasper with in mock anger. "You really shouldn't do that to my friends, you know."

He tilted his head confusedly. "What did I do?"

"You nearly gave her a heart attack, that's what." I couldn't help but laugh. "She looked like she was going to collapse when I came down the stairs." His confused expression did not fade. Did he honestly not notice the effect that he and the rest of his family had on every human they came into contact with? "Oh, _come on. _You have to notice the effect that you have on people. Especially teenage girls," I added as an afterthought.

His amused smile returned. "No, I don't," he said. "Please enlighten me."

"Well, for starters, you're ridiculously tall."

"You don't seem to have a probl-"

"Second of all, you're a vampire, for god's sake."

"Yeah, but-"

"And lastly, you and the rest of your family are all inhumanly gorgeous. Any sane person is bound to be affected by that," I finished, crossing my arms as if that settled things, but, judging by his suddenly mischievous expression, it did not.

Damn.

Faster than I could blink, he was suddenly standing behind me, close enough to my ear that I could feel his breath tickling my exposed skin.

"Do I affect _you?_" I could practically see his golden eyes gleaming in amusement as I shied away from him, blushing.

"Um, yes," I mumbled, staring at my feet. When I looked back up, he was standing in front of me again, his trademark cockeyed grin lighting up his face.

"Good," he stated, looking satisfied.

As he shifted slightly, the light coming from the inside of the Weber house caught his skin in such a way that I noticed something I had never noticed before: there were crescent-shaped lines across his face, embedded into his skin as though someone had cut him time and time again.

I couldn't help it. I was curious.

"Jasper, what happened to you?" I wondered, stretching onto my tip-toes to touch a hand to the scar I had first noticed. It was long and looked like it ran deep. I cringed just imagining what sort of pain he must have endured in order to acquire it.

His once-lighthearted expression darkened. "War."

The curtness of his response should have put me off, I knew, but really, when had I ever behaved like I should have? I knew I was prying, something he never did when I wished him not to, but curiosity was ripping through me like fire. "Vampires have wars?"

He nodded. "Yes. Brutal, terrible, gruesome wars."

I bit my lip, trying to resist the urge to question him further. It was obvious that continuing this conversation would cause him pain, and causing him pain was the last thing on my agenda. I had already harmed him enough as it was by being such an emotional wreck all the time.

For once in my life I managed to maintain control of myself and remained silent. Jasper's eyes were distant as he rounded the car and slid inside, reliving horrors that I couldn't possibly imagine in even the dizziest of daydreams.

I grimaced. Why did I always have to ruin things? My mouth was sealed now, yes, but if I had managed this control earlier the mood would still be light, almost carefree.

Silent as the car was, Jasper's resigned sigh was easily picked up by even my weak human ears.

Instantly, I was more alert, eager for some sign that he wasn't angry with me.

"The wars in the South were vicious," he began. "They probably still are. Ever since I left, I haven't paid any mind to what happens in _those_ parts of the world. I don't need any more reminders as to the merciless monster I was. The monster I still am today." The pained look in his eyes as he gazed at me wasn't worth the explanation of his scars that I so badly wanted.

"Jasper," I said, "you don't have to tell me."

He shook his head. "No, you should know. You have every right to understand what a danger I am to you."

I remained silent, allowing him to carry on with his story, though my skin prickled with guilt when the pained look in his eyes did not fade.

"I fought in the Civil War for two years before my change," Jasper continued. "I was eighteen when I joined the army. Though I was young, I quickly worked my way up through the ranks. Too easily, I could get people to see things my way. Soon enough, I'd gained the title of Major Whitlock, the youngest in Texas." I could have sworn I saw a gleam of pride in his eyes, but before I could look too closely it was gone. "It had always been my dream to serve in the army. I was young and ignorant. _Too_ young, almost, to be a soldier. But I was mature for my age, they told me. I was pleased with my success. Not once did it occur to me that war could ever be _bad._

"I remember the day it occurred to be very clearly. I'd just finished evacuating the women and children from Houston - we were preparing for yet another battle - and I was riding back along the pathway, looking for stragglers. There were three women - Lucy, Nettie, and Maria." He said the last name with distaste. "I figured they'd gotten lost, so I got off of my horse and slowly made my way towards them. I didn't feel comfortable approaching them, a fear I assumed was irrational. What did I have to be afraid of? They were, after all, _just women."_ He laughed coldly, sarcasm dripping from his every word.

"I was hesitant in offering them my help, but it was my duty to do so. I still wish I hadn't to this day. When Maria bit me, my life ended. She needed me, she said - I was going to become a valuable piece in her little game.

"The armies fought for control of Texas. Since it was so big, there was less chance of our kind getting caught when we fed. We could feed twice, even three times a week and go practically unnoticed. It was a battle worth fighting, for nothing, _nothing, _is more potent to a newly created vampire than human blood.

"And that's what we all were - newborns. That's when our kind is strongest, because we've still got human blood trapped in our system. It's also when we're the least stable. Anything can set a newborn off - no one really knows why. The extreme strength and crazed bloodlust begins to wane after the first year. That's when they needed to be destro-" Jasper cut himself off, hastily correcting himself. "-_disposed_ of, providing that they didn't have any extra talents that could be of use to the army."

Jasper's correction brought me to the realization that he was only just barely touching the surface of the horrors he had witnessed. He was editing the story, trying not to frighten me. For that, I was thankful.

"That was my job, getting rid of the ones Maria had rendered useless. I was her puppet - she pulled the strings and I just did as I was told. And when I did as I was told, I was rewarded. It was the most difficult part towards the end, bringing her once-soldiers to an end - I could feel _every emotion _they felt, the fear, the panic, and, finally, nothing. It was like I myself was dying over and over again. It was too much.

"One night, I was ordered to get rid of Charlotte, a newborn my close friend, Peter, had grown particularly fond of. He begged me to let her go, and, how could I not? At this point, I myself was so desperate for an escape that depriving her of a better life - because, I knew there had to be something out there - seemed cruel. I let her go that night, with Peter. I made it look like I had killed them both." At this, his expression twisted into one of disgust, as though, even after all this time, he hadn't forgiven himself.

"Five years after their escape, Peter and Charlotte came back for me. By then, I was so beyond caring what happened to me, I would have left myself soon anyways, or died trying. Death would have been a welcome alternative to the life I was leading. I had nothing to fear, after all, having experienced it so many times through others. I went with them without question, putting faith in their promise of a better life.

"At first, things seemed to get better. I was freer than I could ever remember being in this life - I hunted when I chose, I made my own decisions, and there were no battles. There were skirmishes with the odd nomadic vampire, but it was still better. It was enough, for the time, to keep me sane. But, still, I felt the emotions of those I killed, and I could feel myself growing depressed. It was just an endless cycle, I was realizing - move, kill, feed, kill, feed...

"Charlotte and Peter didn't understand my aversion to taking the lives of others, but they were understanding enough when I told them I had to leave and travel on my own. I hoped that, if I stayed away from others of my kind and fed only when necessary, the feeling of ecstasy that came with tasting human blood would last longer, and maybe I could be content and have to hunt less frequently. My hopes were in vain, however - the depression worsened to the point where I was avoiding feeding completely. I was getting weaker as the days went on, but the will to live was fading from me. What life was an immortal such as myself to lead, anyways? The thought of spending eternity with my strange empathy... well, it was torture.

"That's how Edward found me, lurking in an alleyway during an unexpectedly sunny day in Lakeside, Pennsylvania. I had been debating whether or not taking another life was worth curbing my hunger. The five words Edward spoke opened a door to a whole new world: 'There's another way, you know.'" The way he said it made his fondness of his brother clear.

"It was just him, Carlisle, and Esme back then. Carlisle and Esme were thrilled when Edward came home with me that day. Why, I can't fathom - how I must have looked trailing behind Edward in all his cleanliness, I'll never know. But, still, they welcomed me into their family with open arms despite my battle scars and ruby eyes, both glaring reminders that I had not led a life anything even remotely close to the one they had.

"Transitioning into the vegetarian lifestyle was... interesting. I slipped up so much in my first year, we had to move five different times. They didn't dare send me to school - in fact, the stories they came up with to explain the boy they kept home were quite ridiculous. At one point, I do believe I was their transvestite maid - doomed to a life of being mocked by the public - and, to spare me the humiliation, they had let me live in their basement. But, I suppose the stories were better than risking more human lives by sending me out into the public.

"Resisting the temptation of human blood grew easier as time passed, but no matter how human I acted, I was still hollow. I spent all of my free time with my nose buried in books instead of facing the reality of what I had molded into since my change. Rather than existing growing easier as my life progressed, it grew harder. Gaining Rosalie, Emmett, and Bella was both a blessing and a curse. Edward finally got his match, but living with three happy couples wasn't an easy task. It wasn't that I was _jealous_ of my family members - I wanted them to be happy - it was just the feeling of isolation that got to me. In my mind, I was a monster, something incapable of ever feeling such deep emotions for another being. It seemed that I was destined to be alone, that part of me long since dead. It was hard, being reminded every day of what I had allowed to be done to myself."

Jasper paused, his distant expression fading and a sudden smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "I was proved wrong, of course," he said. "In fact, over the past few weeks, I've felt more human - _happier - _than I could ever have thought possible, no matter how insane my family thinks I am. You've made all the difference, Alice."

I grinned, happy, impossibly so. How could I be happy after hearing such a tale? How could _he _be happy? I could barely think about my own life without wanting to cry, and here he was, a scar-covered soldier, telling his story and able to smile afterwards. I felt _bad_, almost, for letting my own life get to me so much, simply because my own problems dulled so much in comparison to his.

"Incredulity," he observed. It took me a moment to realize he was referring to my emotions.

"I just don't understand how you can be happy after reliving all that. It just seems like it was so... so... awful," I finished lamely.

He smiled, almost sadly this time, and took one of my hands in his. "Alice, I've had almost one-hundred and fifty years to come to terms with what happened to me." He paused a moment before giving voice to my other emotion: guilt. "You, on the other hand, have had only a few months. Don't feel bad because you can't control what you feel. I've learned from experience that numbness is not a good thing."

I didn't respond, instead using my right hand to trace a particularly deep scar on his hand that I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed previously. I almost shuddered to think of the physical pain he must have endured to earn it.

There was something else tugging at my mind, picking at me. It was petty and shallow, the question bothering me. I wouldn't ask it, I told myself. I'd just have to deal with not knowing.

But I couldn't put the question out of my mind: could Jasper and the faceless Maria have been...?

I felt silly for wanting to know so badly, but, even though this woman had long since left Jasper's life, I couldn't help but feel almost threatened by her. Her name meant she had to be from somewhere exotic, or at least she would have had to have been back in the 1800s. And she would have had to have been beautiful, as every vampire was, so much more attractive than pale, freckled, little me.

"You can tell me whatever it is that's bothering you, you know," Jasper said, jerking me from whatever self-involved trance I'd fallen into.

I could feel myself turn pink. "It's none of my business, really," I mumbled. I mean, I didn't need to know. Not really. But something about _not _knowing irked me. It wasn't my usual nosiness - _that _usually didn't get to me this much.

"Alice, seriously," he sighed, "if anything is making you this uncomfortable, it becomes your business."

"It's just... you and Maria..." My voice faltered.

His expression darkened. I immediately regretted saying anything. "So you picked up on that, huh?" My head bobbed up and down without my consent. "I will forever regret falling for Maria's... enticing nature," he practically spat through gritted teeth. Continuing, he said, "Maria never meant anything to me, not really. I was young and inexperienced in life, and-"

Jasper's eyes darkened with every word he uttered, and I could sense him losing it. Just as my parents were with me, Maria was a sensitive topic with him. I would let the topic die - what had happened had happened. I couldn't let _her_ bother me - or not openly, at least. I had to respect the boundaries surrounding certain topics just as he did with me.

"Okay, Jasper. I believe you."

He shot me an exhausted half-smile and leaned back into his seat, relaxing his tense position. I peered at his exposed skin for a few moments longer, awed by the scars he had obtained, and then suddenly I found myself laughing to myself under my breath.

In response to his questioning glance, I said, "What an interesting pair we make. The scar-covered solider and the emotionally unstable psychic."

Jasper laughed too, and suddenly the atmosphere lightened and it didn't seem so strange that we could be happy right now. Together, broken and lost, maybe, just _maybe,_ we could make a whole.


	14. Stuck

**Insomnia**

Chapter 14

"You know, Jasper, if you didn't drive like a _maniac_ we wouldn't have this problem."

His parking was terrifying. For the first time in my life, I had actually feared for my life whilst in his presence. Rather than slowing down and parking normally like he had every other time I had been driven anywhere by him, he had actually _sped up _and swerved wildly until he was facing the parking spot.

In my surprise and fear, I'd yelped and buried my face in my hands, much to his amusement. He had still been laughing as he'd walked around to open my door for me, always the gentleman, despite his maniacal driving.

Actually, he was still laughing now. Every time it seemed like he had finally gotten a handle on his amusement, he would start chuckling again. I resisted the urge to hit him with my purse, doubtful that it would do much damage.

"Alice," he said in between his laughter, "you should know by now that there is absolutely no chance of me crashing the car. Even if I did lose control - which I wouldn't - we would be a good twenty feet away before it actually crashed."

I glowered up at him, half playful and half serious. "Yeah, tell that to _every human instinct I possess. _You could have at least warned me," I retorted haughtily.

He laughed again. "Yes, but where would the fun have been in that?"

This time I _did_ hit him. "Don't laugh at my failed psychic abilities. It's not nice."

Jasper calmed somewhat, though it was obvious that he was still repressing a smile. "Sorry."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. Unfortunately for me, his mood was, as always, infectious and I soon found myself smiling. Stupid empath. I knew what he was up to. "Stop it!"

His expression was the embodiment of innocence as he asked, "Stop what?"

I didn't buy it for a second. "Messing with my emotions."

"No." The strength of his manufactured emotions increased.

"Ugh! Make it stop!" I wailed, both irritated and happy at the same time, which made for an interesting emotional blend.

"Now you're smiling on your own," he accused. I fought to keep the grin off of my face, but it was proving difficult, if not impossible.

"I am not."

"You very much are."

"I very much am _not." _

Pretend to deny it as I might, I was happier - more carefree - than I could remember being in ages. I hadn't been allowed to act childish in a very long time. Often I had fought to keep a balance between maturity and childishness in the earlier years of my life, but eventually after a long and mentally and emotionally exhausting battle, maturity had won.

"I'd never taken you for a liar, Alice," Jasper said, smirking down at me.

"You're so cruel," I whined. "You know I can't fight your weird mood control... hey!" Only a fool would have been able to miss the sudden defeat creeping into my emotions. "You know, Jasper, I can't help but be disappointed in you."

He tilted his head to the side, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Well, since you were in the army and all I would expect you to have more class than that," I sighed, shaking my head in feigned disappointment. "But no, here you are, fighting dirty against a poor, defenseless human whose lethal weapon cannot be used unless she is asleep. For _shame_."

Jasper's smile was instantly replaced by a solemn expression and he stood perfectly straight, his arms flat at his sides - the typical position of an army man. His lips, however, were twitching as he looked down at me.

"I'm classy," he insisted.

I raised my eyebrows challengingly and put my hands on my hips. "Yeah? Prove it. Fight _fair._"

He was grinning again, and, after glancing around for a moment as if to ensure that no one was watching, he darted forwards at a speed that blurred his shape and snatched me off of the ground, slinging me over his shoulder. I let out a squeal of surprise.

"I don't think I can do that," Jasper stated, as he continued to walk effortlessly, as though nothing had happened and it was perfectly normal for him to be carrying a fully grown human, no matter how small, over his shoulder.

I was glad that he couldn't see me grinning. My head fell around the middle of his back, and unless he ripped his head off there was no way he could see the top half of my body. Of course, he didn't really need to see my expression to know what sort of mood I was in.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, twisting around so that I could see the back of his head. "Or, rather, _you're _going and I'm being dragged along to," I amended after a moment of thought.

He turned slightly, just enough that I could see his amused expression. "Unless you'd rather do something else, I was planning on going to the piers. The annual carnival is in town."

"Um, Jasper, I don't think there's anything I could do to stop you from making me do something I don't want to," I said. I was, after all, hanging upside down without control of my body from the waist down.

"Too true," Jasper agreed. "Anyways, I don't hear you complaining about your current situation."

Curse him and his observance.

"If I started screaming bloody murder would you let me go?"

"I doubt that you screaming _bloody_ murder would really help matters."

It took me a moment to realize what I had said. Apparently using terms with the word 'blood' in my sentences didn't really help matters when speaking to a vampire. "Ha ha," I said, clapping sarcastically. "I applaud your wit, _Whit_lock."

All the way to the carnival we bantered back and forth, Jasper always somehow managing to come out on top. It was about halfway there that I vowed to someday beat a vampire in a verbal spar, whether it be in the near future or far.

"Are we there yet?" I moaned, going limp and simply hanging against him, allowing the world to sway around me with each step he took. "I'm getting dizzy."

Moments later, I was placed back on my feet. I shook my head and blinked several times, trying to clear the little spots from my vision. My face must have been pink enough for Jasper's bloodlust to make itself known, for he was leaning away slightly.

I took a deep breath in hopes of sending the blood that had rushed to my face back to its rightful place in my body. Apparently my efforts were not in vain, for Jasper relaxed somewhat.

After walking for a few moments, he asked, "Are you hungry?"

I laughed for a moment before clamping a hand over my mouth. I shouldn't laugh, no matter how perfectly timed that question had been. Thinking of his own hunger had probably reminded him that I needed to eat more frequently than he did, but... okay, now that I thought of it, it really wasn't that funny - really, it was more of a 'caught up in the moment' type thing.

Jasper's expression clearly showed his confusion. Taking a moment to make sure that I had control of myself, I elaborated.

"I really shouldn't laugh. It's just the timing of the question..." I trailed off, his wondering expression catching me off guard. "What?"

Much to my displeasure, he shook his head rather than respond. I pouted, coming to a stop in front of him and crossing my arms, looking up at him. It was an expression that I used rarely, instead keeping it locked away, unleashed on my unsuspecting victim only when I wanted something. Ever since I had been a little girl, 'puppy-dog eyes' had always been an automatic reflex of mine to not getting my way. More often than not people succumbed to my demands when I turned my big, blue eyes on t hem. Even now - though I was a legal adult - it worked.

I could practically see his resolve crumble. Mission accomplished. "I'm just... in awe how well you've adapted to my being-" his voice quieted,"-well, different. Sometimes it seems like you've taken it better than I have. I keep waiting for something I say or do to scare you off, but nothing does."

I smiled cheekily. "I guess you're stuck with me, huh?"

"I guess so."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks," he laughed, reaching over to tussle my hair. I scowled and swatted his hand away.

"First lesson in your 'Caring for an Alice' manual: _don't touch the hair."_

"I'll keep that in mind while I'm filling your food bowl."

I opened my mouth and closed it several times, unable to think of a witty enough response, so I settled for glaring, an action which was made far less impressive by the difference in our heights. I had to tilt my head back just to look him in the eyes.

"Okay... you win. Again," I eventually sighed. "Looks like the puny human loses to the big, bad batboy again."

"Batboy?" Jasper cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, I can't very well use the proper name in public, can I?" I demanded, though in an undertone, as we were among other humans now.

He shook his head, though still looked confused. I almost felt bad for him, trying to understand the inner workings of my mind. Almost as bad as I felt for Edward whenever I was in the same room as him, the poor mindreader.

"So," I continued, "I figured that I could have some fun with the stereotypes associated with your kind. Hence the term 'batboy'."

"I hope you realize you just set yourself up for a bunch of gag gifts from Emmett in the future." Jasper shook his head, as though disappointed in his adoptive brother.

I shrugged, unconcerned. "I'll see it coming. And, speaking of the future, my inner psychic is telling me that I shall be found investing my money in carnival food in the very, very near future, because it's been way too long since I've been to a carnival."

Memories of the hot summer day that Cynthia and I had spent fooling around in the park that Biloxi's annual fair was held in came filled my head, the emotions hitting me a confusing mix of happiness and homesickness.

I internally shook myself. I was _not _going to let my deeper emotions get to me tonight.

"Come on, then," I urged, skipping off in the direction of the crowded carnival area, giggling as Jasper's hypersensitive nose wrinkled at the scent of the greasy food long before we even reached that part of the carnival - I would have pitied him had he not messed my hair up.

Once I had finally settled on getting a stick of candy floss, Jasper's hand immediately went to his back pocket where his wallet was stowed. As to be expected, an argument about who got to pay ensued. I didn't know why I bothered trying to win against a vampire, because by now I should have learned to just give up, but I didn't.

The result of my persistence? Jasper getting his way. _Again_.

"Spoil sport," I complained as he handed the woman behind the counter a five, ignoring her when she tried to give him his change. "Couldn't you let me win, just once?"

"Nope." He grinned apologetically before continuing, "I was the asker of this date, therefore I pay. 'Sides, old habits die hard - I was taught to look out for women before I could walk."

"I may be small, but I can look out for myself," I grumbled. "But thank you, anyhow," I added begrudgingly before picking a piece of the candy floss off of its stick.

Jasper eyed the sugary treat with disgust. "How can you eat that?"

I shrugged. It _did _look kind of strange; had I never eaten it before I probably would have felt the same way.

"Like this." I tore off another piece and popped it into my mouth, letting it melt on my tongue. "It's like catching snowflakes with your tongue, only it tastes good."

His disgusted expression did not fade. I rolled my eyes. "You'd have liked it if they'd invented it when you were human."

"I don't think I would be able to stomach that. It's pure sugar," he insisted.

"Now who's the liar? You're just too proud to admit that I'm right."

When he opened his mouth to object, I shoved a handful of the sticky floss into his mouth and ran off in the opposite direction, recognizing the mischievous look in his eyes. When he got like that, no one was safe.

I didn't get far before he caught up to me, his arms snaking around my waist and holding me in place. I struggled uselessly against his grip.

"Just where do you think you're going?" Jasper whispered into my ear, his close proximity sending shivers down my spine and making it hard for me to think straight. He knew the effect he had on me just as well as I did and was using it to his advantage, I was sure.

"Cheater," I managed to gasp, my shortness of breath partially because of my asthma and partially because I had been sent into a daze by the boy whose arms enfolded me.

I felt his body shake in amusement against me. "And forcing that vile concoction that you humans calls food into my system _isn't_ cheating?"

I let out a shaky laugh. "Okay, maybe I was playing dirty, too," I admitted. Suddenly curious, I asked, "What did it taste like?"

He made a face. "I'd rather not recall the taste, but if I must... it tasted kind of like dirt mixed with toxic waste. I'll have to cough it up later - we can't digest human food."

"Oops."

"Oops, indeed," Jasper sighed, shaking his head. "You have no idea what sort of trauma you just put me through." I was 99.9% sure that he was kidding. He more than likely sensed my (not so surprising) lack of confidence in my observation skills, and as if to reassure me, he took my right hand in his left and gave it a gentle squeeze. Almost immediately, I relaxed.

After that, we spent a surprisingly short time at the carnival itself. We wandered through the attractions, several of which I convinced him to go on, despite the fact that with his height he just barely fit onto half of them, much to my amusement. I had a sneaking suspicion that he did it specifically _to _amuse me, but I could never be sure.

By the time we left the actual attractions and games, I was the proud owner of a large plush bat toy that both Jasper and I had found hilarious. None of the onlookers had understood the source of our mirth, seeing as the toy didn't look particularly amusing. Most had dismissed it as the foolishness of two teenagers, which, come to think of it, it was. Huh. I'd never really thought of Jasper as a normal teenage boy - something that probably came with him having only been a part of my dreams for years - but in more ways than one he was just as immature as the rest of them.

For the rest of the evening we wandered along the piers, talking about whatever sprang to mind, mostly. My thoughts rarely focused on just one subject, and half of the time I'd be mid-sentence when a completely irrelevant idea wormed its way into my head and made my train of thought veer off track.

Jasper found my borderline ADD hilarious, and, bless him, went along with it, loyally following me into each new conversation topic. I'd met people who couldn't fathom what went on in my head and didn't bother trying to carry on a conversation with me for any extended period of time, something I understood. However, I'd also met people who found my frenzied thought process endearing, and thank _god _those people existed - and that Jasper was one of them.

The ride home was fairly quiet, my emotions and thoughts both harmoniously calm for once. The only thing nagging at me was the looming prospect of Jasper's parking.

Much to my relief, he parked like a normal human being (normal vampire? Was that even possible?), though he did shoot me a smirk as he did so. For the second time that night I stuck my tongue out at him, which only made him all the more smug.

I wasn't surprised when he held open my door for me, as he had every time I had been in his car after our first unexpected encounter. I was, however, surprised when he walked me to the door. I didn't think he'd ever left his car after dropping me off before.

Underneath the porch light, his scars were visible again. I resisted the urge to reach out and touch my fingertips to the longest one. Curious creature as I was, I longed to know the story behind each and every one of his scars.

I didn't know if that would be pushing it, so I, for once, got a handle on myself and said nothing, instead gazing up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. Gratitude, joy, and awkward, teenaged, and undeveloped as the feeling was, my broken version of love. Yes, I had only physically been able to see him for a month, but I had wondered about him for three years: who was he? What troubled him so? Over time, I had come to develop feelings for him without meeting him and hadn't even realized it.

"Thank you, Jasper," I said. "It means a lot that you would do this for me - you must know how much of a relief it is for me to get away from myself sometimes." The words came tumbling from my mouth before I gave them permission to.

Jasper brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "It was my pleasure," he assured me, and it sounded like he genuinely meant it. I could practically feel myself glowing.

Almost without thinking about it, I took a step forwards to close the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him. The embrace felt natural, even moreso when his arms tightened around me and pulled me closer. It was nice, feeling as though I belonged there in his arms, human or not.

When I went to pull away, one of his cool hands caught my chin, tilting it upwards, though not roughly.

It was almost dreamlike, that first kiss. All at once it felt as though fire was running through my veins, but at the same time I was frozen on the spot, encased in ice. Before I really had a chance to react, he had pulled away, his expression satisfied.

"'Night, Alice," he said, flashing me a grin.

And then he was gone, the only proof that he had ever really been there being the ghostly chuckle heard after my wistful sigh.


	15. Bets

**A/N: Just a warning: this writing is _officially _outdated and no longer represents my writing abilites. I wrote this when I was about twelve. However, I'm going to continue to post this story, because, well, I worked hard on it. x) I may do a rewrite, so keep an eye out.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Insomnia**

Chapter 15

Much to my dismay, the sun shone brightly for the entire school week, which meant that the Cullens had to stay home - or go hunting, as Jasper had explained they did on sunny days. I wasn't all that concerned with their absence, but it was an inconvenience, seeing as my backup chauffeur, Angela, was riding to and from school with Ben Cheney nowadays, which left me to walk. Ah, well.

I wasn't sure what time it had been when I had finally fallen asleep Friday night, my half-completed homework strewn across my room's hardwood floor. My dreams were unusually choppy and blurry, which, combined with the distant rumble of thunder, were enough to give me one hell of a headache.

Upon first waking up, I automatically assumed that it was just my insomnia deciding that I had gotten enough sleep and there had been no real cause of my arousal. Yawning, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore my predicted headache, which wasn't improved much by the repetitive tapping at my window.

Wait, _what?_

Confused, I crawled reluctantly out of bed and stumbled over to my window, still half asleep. It took my eyes several moments to adjust to the thick blanket of darkness that had fallen outside, but once they did they didn't do much good to help me make sense of anything.

There, just below my window, stood a tall, blonde-haired figure that was unmistakably Jasper. He had a handful of rocks and wore a triumphant expression, as though getting my attention was some great accomplishment. Actually, it probably was - I was probably one of the most oblivious people in Forks when it came to things like noticing people.

After a moment of hesitation in my ever-present confusion, I scrambled onto the window seat and slid open the window, cringing at the loud _creak _it gave. I made a mental note to pick up some oil for that, as in spring there was no doubt that I'd want to open my window _without _waking up the Webers once in a while to let in fresh air during the long nights I endured. In my world, the smell of plants and damp earth helped make everything better.

Within moments, Jasper had somehow managed to scale up the side of the Webers' house and had balanced himself on the windowsill.

"Hello," he greeted me casually, as though there was nothing abnormal about the fact he was crouched outside my window at one in the morning.

"Uh... come in?" It came out as a question; I hadn't been taught proper etiquette for a situation as bizarre as this. Jasper laughed lightly at my awkwardness and ducked into my room, settling himself against the window (which had mysteriously shut behind him).

Noticing my yawn, he looked slightly guilty. "I hope I didn't cheat you out of too much sleep."

I scoffed. "Me? _Sleep? _I would have woken up soon anyways. My body is lame like that," I assured him. "So, er... why exactly...?"

He laughed again. "I should probably explain myself, shouldn't I?" he asked, his excited expression back. I'd never seen him quite like this before, but I liked this side of Jasper. He was more... boyish, as though he hadn't seen horrors that I couldn't imagine in my dizziest daydreams.

"Yes, you should," I agreed. "It's not every night a vampire appears at my window, you know."

Jasper grinned. "Well, as you can see, there's a thunderstorm."

I still didn't know where he was going with this.

"Don't look so confused," Jasper snickered. Evidently, my confusion was still displayed on my face. "I figured that, since you're just as much of a nocturnal creature as we are, you might as well come and spend some time with myself and my family." Pausing, he suddenly looked unsure. "That is, if you don't mind watching baseball," he added.

"Baseball?"

"You'll see," he promised with a grin.

I shook my head incredulously - vampires played baseball? The Cullen family was just full of surprises. Just when I thought I'd somewhat gotten a grip on the whole 'vampire' thing, I learned something else that threw me off.

"Well, let me get dressed-" I turned towards my dresser when Jasper caught my arm.

"You look fine," he insisted. I frowned and gestured at my striped pajama bottoms and loose t-shirt.

"Aren't I a _tad _bit underdressed?"

"Not at all," Jasper said. For the first time I realized he wasn't wearing day clothes. Instead, he had a typically male pair of plaid pajama pants on and a baggy white t-shirt. I raised an eyebrow.

"Vampires wear pajamas? You don't sleep," I pointed out. "Wait, scratch that. I don't sleep either, and I still change at night. I don't think my pajamas would appreciate being ignored."

Jasper raised an eyebrow, and I crossed my arms defensively. "Hey, clothes have feelings, too. You of all people should respect that."

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, he said, "I can see that you and Rosalie will get along just fine - she's just about as insane about clothes as you are."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Get used to it - I'm a grade A fashionista."

He groaned dramatically. "Oh, no. I can't take more shopping."

"Oh, hush. Don't we have somewhere to go?" I waved my hand in the general direction of my window.

"Yep," agreed Jasper. "We'll have to use the window so that there won't be any questions you probably won't want to be asked about why the front door was unlocked..." He trailed off, almost as if he were debating whether or not the avoidance of awkward questions was worth the risk of letting a me jump out of a window, accompanied by a vampire or not.

"Can I at least get a jacket? I want to look at least somewhat normal," I said, my inner vanity getting the better of me. I had barely finished my sentence when Jasper started shrugging out of his jacket. Before I had time to object, I was holding his jacket, which I was sure would be about one hundred times too big.

"Wear mine," he said. "It'll probably keep you warmer, and I won't feel the cold anyways."

I hesitated for a moment, feeling guilty despite the fact that the cold would have no effect on him whatsoever. Eventually, the chilly air that had blown into the room combined with the temptation of wearing Jasper's jacket got the better of me and slipped into the thick article of clothing, rolling the sleeves up at least five times in order to regain the use of my hands.

"There." I beamed up at him. "Now, I suppose I have a baseball game to watch, don't I?"

I wasn't sure if Jasper was simply excited all on his own or if my emotions were affecting him. Either way, I was going to enjoy this newfound boyishness. It was adorable, but I wouldn't tell him that - it would probably bruise his manly ego.

_Boys. _

About thirty seconds later, I found myself perched on his back, peering over his shoulder and down at the drop below us.

"Ready?" he whispered, his amusement at my sudden nervousness creeping into his voice.

"Um, no, not really."

"I'm not going to let you fall," Jasper assured me, his serious demeanor ruined by his just-barely muffled laughter.

"It's not me I'm worried about." Okay, so maybe that wasn't _entirely _true. "It's just that the thought that anyone can jump from this height and not suffer serious injuries kind of freaks me out."

I could practically feel him rolling his eyes. "We'll both be fine," he insisted. "If it worries you, you might want to close your eyes. Actually, you should probably close them anyways."

"Wh-" My question was cut off by the sudden feeling of the ground disappearing beneath us. I felt my breath catch in surprise and buried my face in his shoulder, daring to look up only when I was sure we had made contact with the ground and weren't about to die.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't at all prepared. We were already surrounded by trees, or what I thought were trees, anyways. I couldn't be sure - they all melded together in one clump of brown and green.

Jasper's running was both terrifying and exhilarating. In some ways, it was like flying: his feet barely seemed to touch the ground as he pushed forwards. In other ways, it was like sitting in a blender and having no idea how you got there. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to keep my eyes open or not, but my decision was made for me when I realized that I _couldn't_ close them, whether the reason being my terror or the harsh wind whipping my face.

Soon, far sooner than I would have expected before he'd started running, Jasper came to an abrupt halt in a place that looked no different from any other part of the forest. I slowly detached myself from him, slithering ungracefully to the ground, still shaking slightly from the initial shock of the speed.

"Well, that was interesting," I eventually said, still trying to regain my composure. He burst into laughter, the sight of my still-shocked expression combined with my emotions probably too much for him to handle.

I glared at him. "Laugh all you want, Whitlock. You'd look the same way if someone jumped off off of a building without warning while _carrying_ _you_. Not to mention how _fast _you were going_._"

He smiled sheepishly one he'd gotten ahold of himself. "Sorry," he apologized, except I suspected that he wasn't really sorry at all.

Once I was positive that my legs weren't going to give out on me when I attempted to walk, I gestured forwards and said, "Lead on."

Jasper seemed to be taking care to walk slowly as he wound his way through the forest. Despite this fact, I still had difficulty keeping up due to my comparatively short legs and the undergrowth that seemed determined to take me out.

Luckily for me, the walk didn't last very long, and soon we had arrived at a clearing that was so familiar that I had to stop in my tracks.

"Woah." I shook my head in disbelief - the clearing was none other than the one I had dreamt of during my first bout of sickness in Forks. The grass was pressed in the exact diamond shape it had been in my dream - a larger version of a baseball diamond, I realized now.

"Recognize it?" Jasper asked, obviously having caught on. Oh, right. He'd watched me draw the field. "I always wondered how you knew about the field - as far as we're aware, no humans have ventured this far into the woods for a long time."

I internally shook myself - I needed to get used to seeing things from my dreams. If I froze up like this every time I witnessed one of my visions happening in real time, I was going to lead a very difficult life.

Once I had gotten myself together, I finally noticed the actual occupants of the field. My eyes still hadn't fully adjusted to the dark, but I could dimly make out shapes navigating the field.

A few moments of me being frustrated with my weak human eyesight later, Esme quite literally materialized out of thin air at Jasper's side, succeeding only in startling me.

Okay, I _really_ needed to start expecting these things.

"It's lovely that you could make it, Alice, darling," Esme trilled gleefully, clasping one of my hands in both of her icy-cold ones, seemingly oblivious to my skittishness. Her expression suddenly scornful, she turned to Jasper. "You didn't wake her, did you?"

His half-formed response was interrupted by the appearance of none other than Emmett Cullen.

"Alice!" he boomed, and before I could even understand what was happening I was hoisted off the ground in an enormous bear hug.

"Can't... breathe-" I squeaked, "-bones... shattering..."

"Emmett, let her go." No release. "_Emmett. _She's human, remember?"

Jasper's warning seemed to finally get through to Emmett, who released me. It took the blood in my head several moments to return to its rightful place in my body and for the world to stop spinning around me, but, all of this aside, I was secretly glad that Jasper's brother seemed to approve of me so wholeheartedly.

"You're a moron, Emmett. There's this amazing thing called _oxygen_ that all humans need - you might want to do some studies on it," piped up a feminine voice. Yet _another _Cullen had appeared without me noticing, except this time nobody crushed the air out of my body. Instead, the round-faced Bella stepped from the shadows and smiled apologetically at me. Just behind her trailed Edward, whose topaz eyes were concentrated on my forehead. I was momentarily freaked out by his intensity until I remembered his ability.

Mind reading. Weird. Of course, that sentiment was totally hypocritical coming from the psychic, but I couldn't find it in me to care. It was his problem if he wanted to go all circus-freak on everyone, not mine.

"How very insightful of you," Edward said. It took me a split second to realize he was responding to my thoughts.

"Well, _that's _going to get annoying," I grumbled. There went any hopes of privacy that I'd had.

Jasper snorted. "At least _you _haven't had to deal with him for the past sixty or so years. We were all thankful when Bella came along - we were finally safe inside our own heads."

"Now, if we're all done wearing our hearts on our sleeves, can we get on with the game?"

Honestly, I couldn't say I was surprised when I discovered Rosalie to be the owner of the complaining voice. I didn't think she could have appeared any more of a stereotypically whiny blonde girl at the moment if she'd tried. She was even filing her nails. At least she hadn't said 'like' in the middle of her sentence.

"You're _on," _Edward said. "There's no way we're losing to you this time. We _can _win without someone oiling Emmett's shoes."

I looked over to find Jasper looking chastened. I didn't have time to wonder what they were going on about before he said, "Hey, we won, didn't we?"

"Through foul play," Emmett protested, shoving him to the side. "You're going _down, _lover boy."

"Jasper's team is going to win," I stated matter-of-factly after a moment of silence. Only after the words had left my mouth did I pause - I hadn't dreamt of the outcome, but I _knew _that I was right. I felt my eyebrows pull together in a moment of confusion before shoving it aside - it wasn't, after all, the first time something like this had happened. I'd always known when I'd need an umbrella when I was younger, and when to wear my rainproof jacket in spring. I supposed it was just one of those things that came with being psychic.

"Oh, yeah?" Emmett looked affronted that I would say such a thing. "We _creamed _them last time. There's no way they can make a comeback."

In an instant, I found myself grinning wickedly.

"Wanna bet?"


	16. Flight

**I implore you to stop reading now. I update only for those of you who truly want to finish this story. The outcome has changed severely in my mind along with Alice's backstory, but I'll finish uploading this because, well, people are expecting it. **

**Insomnia**

Chapter 16

The next month flew by in a wonderful blur of happiness and obliviousness, a month in which I felt almost normal.

As I had known it would, however, it came to an end, as everything good in my life did. Soon enough I was staring Christmas vacation in the face. I'd promised Cynthia that I would come home for Christmas to visit her, and there was no way I was letting her down again. I hadn't seen her since mid-September, and backing out of this trip would crush her - no, it wouldn't only crush her, it would crush _me_, too. I missed her to the point of feeling physical pain sometimes.

My bag lay half-packed in front of me in the middle of my bed, its emptiness almost mocking me, like it knew I was putting off packing to escape the reality of my situation for as long as possible. I would have to pack eventually, I knew. My flight did, after all, leave in just four and a half hours, two hours of which would be spent driving to the Seattle airport.

I didn't have to pack much, seeing I'd left most of my belongings at home - there was only so much of my wardrobe that my suitcase could handle. I was bringing so little, in fact, that I was merely using my button-covered schoolbag to carry everything. If anything, I only needed a change of clothes or two, just in case.

"Okay," I muttered in hopes of giving myself some motivation to move, as I was coming to the realization that I could stand still no longer. I was jittery; it was almost as though I had consumed one too many cups of coffee, which, in my world, would be a single cup. I had a terribly low tolerance for caffeine; sometimes even hot chocolate was too much for my system, and I would get jumpy for an hour or so and then crash.

Actually maybe crashing was a good idea. That way I could put off flying over to Biloxi for a day-

_No, _I chastised myself, _don't think that way. You'll be fine. Your sister is relying on you._

I sighed, knowing that I was right. I couldn't just change my mind on a whim with less than a day's notice for my family. It wasn't fair to anyone.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I willed myself to move. I had been staring at my near-empty bag for far too long now, maybe fifteen minutes at the least.

Packing was a disaster. My mind was in so many different places at once that I tried to pack shorts along with the thermal underwear that Angela had given to me as a gag Christmas gift earlier in the day, neither of which I wanted to bring with me.

After about half an hour of struggling to pack the correct items, my bag was zipped and ready to go. Now all I had to do was wait for Jasper, who had ceremoniously volunteered to be my chauffeur.

I wondered if he knew what he was getting himself into. I was bound to be an emotional wreck; I couldn't face my parents yet, I just _couldn't. _I knew that, sooner or later over the two weeks I would be visiting, I would snap. Say something to screw myself over even further than I already had. Get myself moved somewhere else in the world. I didn't have a job, so there was no way I could hold my own in Forks if my parents convinced the Webers to throw me out. I knew that I couldn't place all of the blame on my parents - they were close-minded, yes, but they _had _been trying to help me by sending me here. But how could I not feel bitter, knowing my parents thought I was a freak?

Suddenly, my cheek felt damp. I wiped my sleeve across my face only to find that I was crying. Why did I always cry? Why couldn't I just suck things up and stick it out? Why did I have to be so weak?

I bit my lip in an attempt to take my mind off of my emotions, focusing solely on the pain shooting through me. I stopped before I bled, though, knowing that would only cause problems when Jasper showed up. I was torn between wanting him to hurry up and wanting him to be horrendously late. In some ways, I just wanted to be on the road where I would have no way of turning back, and in others I wanted to sit here, frozen in time, never having to face the problems looming ahead of me. It was childish and immature to want to run away from the problems I had created for myself, but it was the easiest option, and I wanted to choose it, so badly. I was a coward, and I knew it.

I hugged my knees to my chest, curling into a small ball on my bed, occasionally chewing on my lip as a distraction until the doorbell rang. The moment the sound rang through the house, I jumped from my bed and grabbed my bag, throwing it over my shoulder and bolting from the room so fast that the building might as well have been on fire. I didn't want to sit and wait anymore; patience was not a trait I had been blessed with.

Without wasting a moment, I bounded down the stairs and jumped the last two steps, coming to an ungraceful halt smack in the middle of the foyer, my bag swaying at my side. The entire Weber family had crowded into the landing to say goodbye to me, a simple gesture that warmed my heart. The twins looked truly sad that I was leaving, probably because Angela didn't have as much spare time to play with them as I did. Over the last few months I had taken over babysitting duties, much to Angela's relief. She had a boyfriend and a job to juggle with her family life - I didn't blame her for wanting out sometimes. I didn't mind - looking after the boys made me feel like I was doing something useful for once.

Jasper leaned casually against the doorframe, his blonde head almost touching the very top of it. His expression was aloft, almost amused. The Webers would assume that he was merely entertained by my erratic behavior, for they would not look past his expression and into his eyes, which told a different story. He had picked up on the stress mounting inside of me, the worry, the anxiety. He was worried, too. Worried about me. How little I deserved that worry.

I stooped down to give Isaac and Joseph hugs, ignoring their protests ("Ew, gross!" and, "But you're a _girl, _Alice!" were among them). "You'd better be good," I warned, "because I'll know if you're not. Santa and I are very close, you see."

"Yeah, right!" Isaac scoffed. Joseph elbowed him, and hard, judging by the looks of it.

"Shut up! She might not be lying," he hissed. Both boys immediately fell silent and scuttled back to their mother's side.

My goodbyes were rather quiet after that, almost as if the Webers had obtained Jasper's gift of sensing emotions and had realized how touchy I had grown over the past hour. However, they knew nothing of my feud with my parents, therefore they were presented with no reason for me to be edgy about this holiday.

Pfft. Holiday, indeed. A more suitable term would have been 'boot camp'.

Finally, I was heading out the door, calling one last goodbye to the family that had so kindly taken me in and cared for me during my first few months in Forks.

Jasper wordlessly took my bag and tossed it into the trunk, his carefree expression long gone. I hesitated as I went to open the passenger door, a part of me still urging me to run for it.

"I can't do this," I eventually whispered, my voice tremulous and just barely audible. "Jasper, I can't do it." My voice was louder this time, more desperate.

Instantly, his arms wrapped around me. The way his arms encircled me was protective, almost as though they could shield me from my troubles.

"'Course you can," he said. I buried my face in his chest. He knew I didn't agree with him. "It's only for two weeks. You'll be fine." His voice was softer now, his smooth voice soothing my nerves somewhat. I wondered if he was tampering with my emotions. Honestly, I didn't care if he was; it didn't matter right now.

"You don't know what it's like there. Everything is so tense all the time..." I shook my head, closing my eyes against the sudden flow of tears. "I don't want to be trapped again."

I hurriedly wiped away a tear that had escaped. What with the horrible snow blowing around us, I could easily pass it off as a snowflake melting on my comparatively warm cheek, but I didn't feel like putting on yet another show. I had already had to pretend to be happy about my vacation all day so that the Webers wouldn't suspect anything.

"Then don't go." His words were more blunt than anything I had ever heard him say. "Make an excuse. Say your plane got delayed. Fake your own death."

I was almost sure that last suggestion had been a joke, but I frowned. "I can't do that, though," I sighed. "It would be too simple if I could. I can't just leave my sister like that. I promised her that I would come. I needto see her - I miss her. I would never forgive myself if I hurt her."

Jasper gazed sadly down at me for a few moments, me having finally looked up, before he said, "Well, I don't figure you want to miss your plane - we should get going."

I nodded and turned to the car door, pushing away my growing urge to run off in the opposite direction. It wouldn't be so bad, I told myself. It was just my parents. What was the worst that could happen? I'd made enough mistakes that I knew how to stay out of trouble. It wouldn't be so bad.

_Liar, _a voice inside of me snarled. I ignored it and yanked open the passenger door, planting myself onto the leather sea. I hurried to buckle myself in, determined to beat the cowardice inside of me, for surely had I not practically strapped myself down it would have sent me hurtling off into the surrounding forest.

No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, my thoughts always came back to the fact that I was terrified of what was looming ahead of me. It was silly and cowardly, but I just couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and soon. Too soon.

Jasper, sensing my growing unease, took one of my hands in one of his, squeezing gently, sending the silent reassurance that I so craved.

For the entirety of the two hour trip to Seattle I stared blankly out the front window, struggling to keep my emotions at bay. Every so often I would begin to lose my battle, and Jasper's strange empathy would kick in and quiet them for a while before the battle would resume.

It was about five thirty when we arrived at the airport. We had left at three. I was surprised, because Jasper usually drove like a maniac, snow or no snow. He must have discreetly driven slower to buy us - me - time.

We lounged around the food court for a while, me waiting for my appetite to make an appearance and Jasper trying to hide his disgust at the greasy smells wafting through the air. I hadn't eaten anything all day, but eventually we had to give up, partially because my appetite was nonexistent, and partially because Jasper looked ready to rip every single deep-friar in the entire airport from its counter and throw it halfway across the country.

I put off going through customs as long as possible, but the lines were only growing longer as time passed, and I knew that if I wanted to make my flight I would have to get a spot in one of the lines soon.

Leaving Jasper was the last thing I wanted to do - his presence was the only thing keeping me calm. He was my rock, in a sense. I didn't want to face the next two weeks without him. But what kind of life would I lead if I couldn't function on my own?

Grimacing, I glanced towards the line. "I guess I should go get in line. It's crazy." I jerked my head in the direction of the ever-growing queues. Jasper nodded, looking almost as reluctant to let me go as I felt.

On a whim, I stood on my tip-toes and tugged his shoulders downwards, pressing my lips to his. It was the first kiss we'd had since that night on the Webers' front porch, and it was wildly different. The first time it had been soft, tender, hesitant. This time it was more feverish, whether it was from my frenzied emotions or not. He pulled away soon, far sooner than my inner unruly teenager would have liked, his eyes clouded with an unreadable emotion.

"I'll miss you," I mumbled, almost awkwardly. Talking about my feelings had never been something I was good at.

"Not as much as I'll miss you," he said. I smiled weakly, and, after giving him one last fleeting hug I turned and headed towards the long line that was slowly making its way through customs.

"Bye, Jasper!" I called over my shoulder. "Merry Christmas! Happy New Year, and everything in between!"

I could have sworn I heard him laugh.

Flying.

I really _hated _flying. It gave me too much time to think, to brood. The flight to Biloxi was no better than the flight to Forks - the entire time I fought tears. Not twenty minutes into the flight I was already wishing that I was back in Forks, the place that I realized I had begun to consider home. Mississippi held nothing for me now aside from my sister. There was no sense of welcoming, of _home _when I thought of the city. Oh, there were happy memories, but they were eclipsed by the negative ones.

I blinked away a fresh round of tears, wiping my sleeve across my face longer than necessary, pretending to be itching the corner of my right eye. Crying in public wasn't on the top of my to-do list.

In a way, it was more depressing to watch the ever-present rain clouds covering Washington flying by beneath me than it had been watching Biloxi disappear behind me. This time around I was leaving so much more behind than I ever could have imagined, even if it was only for two weeks.

Two weeks. Two long, _long_ weeks.

Time seemed to drag for the short time I was aboard the plane, slowing down even more when I urged it to speed up. I hated being confined to my seat - I wanted to pace, or at least be allowed to get away from all these people. I felt like I was being suffocated.

Despite the fact that it seemed like it would never do so, the plane did eventually touch down in Biloxi's airport. I felt my stomach clench in anticipation, though I wasn't sure if the feeling was positive or negative yet. I would be seeing Cynthia again, but what was keeping my parents from inconspicuously keeping her away from me until I was deemed 'sane'?

I bit down on my lip, hard. Soon enough, I could taste the salty tang of blood. For a moment I wondered how Jasper could stomach such a taste - let alone _desire_ it - but my incredulous thoughts were soon interrupted by the announcement that we could leave our seats. I hesitated a moment before grabbing my bag (which I had pretended was a carry-on), unsure of whether I wanted to run from the plane and face whatever was awaiting me or if I wanted to put it off as long as possible.

Whatever I wanted, I didn't really have a choice. The line was hardly moving - it took a good forty-five minutes to get through customs. I was glad that I didn't have a moody escort this time around, so that this time around I could take my own sweet time locating whoever had come to get me. _If _anyone had come to get me. If not, I would have to find my own way home. Good thing I'd brought cash with me.

I scoured the crowd of people for god-knows-how-long with no luck. The crowd was slowly thinning out, perhaps too slowly, and so I decided to give myself a break. I needed time to compose myself, anyhow. I was shaking.

Taking a deep breath, I sat myself down on a bench and folded my arms across my chest, staring out at the throngs of people. I found that I had to look away from the reuniting couples - I didn't need a reminder as to how much I was going to miss Jasper.

Ten minutes passed, and finally the crowd had thinned out enough for me to be able to move without smashing into someone every five seconds. It wasn't easy being my size and trying to fight your way through a packed airport.

It didn't take long to locate just the person I was looking for once I was in the right mindset. She stood back a little, her green eyes darting in every direction, searching. I couldn't hold back the grin threatening to break through my once-calm demeanor.

"Cynthia!"


	17. Nostalgia

**You're still here? Why? I don't want to upload this. It's just _bad. _But for some unbeknownst reason you people are still reading it. And that's strange. Because the outcome of this story is not the true outcome of Insomnia. **

**Oh, well.**

* * *

**Insomnia**

Chapter 17

In my enthusiasm, I nearly knocked my unsuspecting sister over and into the signs she stood in front of, despite the fact she had to be at least six or seven inches taller than me now.

"Alice!" she cried out, returning my bone-crushing hug after recovering from the shock of being barreled into by her over-enthusiastic sister. Soon enough I found myself being swung in a huge circle, my feet at least eight inches from the ground.

"You've grown," I accused her once she had set me back on my feet. I had to look up to properly see her face. Wasn't _I _supposed to be the big sister?

She smirked. "Yep, I'm 5'5" now," she announced proudly before looking me up and down. "You haven't grown, I see."

"Hey, I'm not short, the earth just loves me more than you," I defended myself. Cynthia snorted, but otherwise let me get one-up on her. Bless her. After hanging around with vampires for a month, I'd gotten used to always losing.

My heart still racing from my frantic dash across the airport, I fell into step next to my sister, silently enjoying her presence. I had missed the close comfort of my sister; having lived with the Webers for the past few months, I had only been able to look in on their tight bond, feeling more and more like I was intruding upon their quiet lives.

"So, how's life in Forks?" Cynthia asked, an undertone of caution in her voice. She knew that she could quite possibly be entering dangerous waters, but I, for once, got to be the bearer of good news.

"Oh, it's so much better than I expected," I enthused. "The Webers are so kind to me, and I'm not behind in school at all, and..." I trailed off, blushing and feeling more like a gushing schoolgirl than I ever had before. There was no need to-

"I know that look," my little sister said. She really didn't miss anything, did she? "You've met a guy, right?"

I hesitated, which only seemed to confirm her suspicions. Her eyes lit up, and somehow she seemed even more happy for me than I was. She was better at keeping control of her emotions, however, and she was far less exuberant than I was; I was sure that anyone who didn't know her well enough would have had a difficult time deciphering her expressions and moods.

"You have! Who is he?" she demanded.

I paused, trying to think of a way to talk about Jasper without giving away his secret. After a moment of thought, I said, "Well, you remember the boy I saw when I was fifteen? The blonde one?"

Cynthia's eyes brightened with understanding. "You mean you _found him?" _she gasped. I grinned - her bewilderment was amusing. I'd almost forgotten how alien my premonitions must seem to those who didn't experience the visions themselves. Even Jasper, a god-knows-how-old _vampire_, for god's sake, had difficulty comprehending them sometimes.

"I did," I confirmed happily.

Her eyes looked ready to bug out of her head. "That's so cool!" She paused, the Brandon-trademark mischievous glint entering her eyes. "And, ah,what have you two been getting up to in my absence...?"

I elbowed her. "It's not like that, you pervert. Chastity ring, remember?" I protested. "Besides, I've only known him for-"

"Three years?" she interjected. I shook my head in half-feigned exasperation.

"It's not the same, seeing someone in person and seeing someone in your dreams." Cynthia tilted her head to the side confusedly. "It's hard to explain," I added.

She shrugged. "I'm just happy that you're happy. Of course, if this... this..." Trailing off, she realized she didn't have a name to apply to the boy she was - I'm sure -te about to threaten.

"His name is Jasper," I offered.

"Right. If this _Jasper _character does anything to hurt you, anything at all, I will personally fly over there and beat him down until he shrivels up and dies."

I raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that, kiddo - he's 6'3" and could probably pick you up by your ankle and toss you a good ten feet away." Oh, and not to mention he could twist his fingers and snap her neck. Or my neck, for that matter. I shivered, remembering that I was putting my life at risk every moment I spent with him. Almost immediately afterwards I felt a hot wave of shame crash over me - how could I even _think_ that? Jasper may not have the most restraint out of his family members, but he certainly wasn't about to go around sucking everyone's blood.

Cynthia huffed and crossed her arms. "What_ever._ He should still be afraid of my wrath."

I rolled my eyes, but otherwise let the topic die. There was no need for me to burst her bubble by pointing out that Jasper was an immortal being and wasn't about to fear a fourteen-year-old human girl.

I had barely noticed the distance we'd covered, but soon I found myself pushing through the revolving doors at the front of the airport, jerking back when the strap of my bag got caught on one of the unnecessary door handles.

Finally, I wrenched it free, and we slowly made neared the busy parking lot surrounding the airport. "I take it we're taking a taxi home," I said, trying to keep the bitterness from my voice.

Cynthia hesitated before responding. "Yes - Dad's at work, and Mom mysteriously had an urgent errand to run. I'm pretty sure she didn't want to upset you. She... she wasn't sure how you'd react if she came along," she admitted. I felt a wave of guilt wash over me when I realized how this was affecting Cynthia. I had never really stopped to think about how my leaving home and starting a new life across the country would affect her, so absorbed in myself as I had been. I hated putting her in such an awkward place - I knew she wanted to be loyal to me, but I knew that she wanted to be loyal to our parents, too, and we were slowly tearing her in two.

"Okay." I nodded, trying to sound upbeat, though I was sure I was failing miserably. I wasn't happy to be home, despite the fact that I was with my sister again, and if Cynthia hadn't caught on yet, she soon would. "Taxis. That I can do. Beats walking any day."

She shuddered. "Remember the day we had to walk all the way to the mall because we didn't have the right change to take the bus?"

I made a face. "I'd rather not - I still have the scar on my heel from that huge blister I got. Ew."

"That was really disgusting," she agreed. "I remember we had to ice your _other _foot for four hours because you twisted it in that one hole," she laughed. I grinned in spite of the painful memory; this was what would make coming home worth it, these little moments of reminiscence and peace. It made me happy to remember how tenderly my mother had cared for my ankle that day - I had been only fourteen then.

How things had changed in the past year. I just barely held back a sigh. What had happened to change everything so drastically? For a moment, I half-closed my eyes, allowing myself to imagine that everything was the way it had been when I was younger. My mother's smiling face, my _own _happiness.

But when I opened my eyes I was back in the hustle and bustle of Biloxi, my light bag slung over my shoulder and my younger sister desperately trying to flag down a taxi.

Swallowing the bitter disappointment I felt rising inside of me, I put a hand on my sister's waving arm. "Allow me." Once she had stepped back slightly, I put two fingers in my mouth and whistled the loudest whistle that I could muster, which, if I did say so myself, was pretty loud.

"_Oy! _Taxi! Over here!" I yelled.

Moments later, a taxi painted an ugly shade of yellow pulled up at the curb. The driver, a middle-aged man, looked more than slightly irritated, but let us get in without hassle. He wasn't what I could describe as 'pleasant' - he grunted a curt 'hello' when we slid inside and asked a garbled question that I assumed I was supposed to respond to with a location.

I fiddled nervously with the strap of my bag and soon found myself fighting full-on panic. I had no idea what I was supposed to say to my mother when she got home - I hadn't been exactly pleasant to her that last time we'd spoken, and I had discreetly not been in when I had sensed that she was about to call. I knew I was overreacting, in a sense. She had tried to contact me multiple times during my stay in Forks, and I had only pulled away from her attempts to reach out to me. I knew, deep down, that I had no one but myself to blame for my life's current state.

Sighing quietly, I leaned my head against the cool window and watched other cars speed by, wondering if our driver was driving intentionally slow. I just wanted to be _home - _I couldn't take all this waiting.

Nostalgia washed over me as the neighborhood I had grown up in raced by. It was virtually the same as it had been when I had left. I didn't know what I had expected, but it still looked the same as ever. Even the trees, stripped bare of their leaves, looked the same.

It was then that I realized how much I really had missed home. In the months leading up to today, I had been so wrapped up in everything going on in Forks that I hadn't paid attention to the dull homesickness I had felt, but now it rose up and washed away, just like that. I was home again.

I wasn't sure whether I wanted to smile or burst into tears. I certainly hadn't expected that seeing the city I had grown up in would ignite this much emotion in me. Then again, when had anything _not _triggered emotion in me?

Cynthia was almost as in tune with my emotions as Jasper was. I had forgotten how observant she was - the exact opposite of me. She reached over and squeezed my hand, a gesture that somehow managed to be reassuring and excited at the same time. It was almost painful to see how much she had grown up in the short amount of time I had been gone. I couldn't help but wonder how much I had missed. I knew that someday, whether near or far, I would fade from my sister's life completely; my life would take me down a very different path than hers. I had to savor the time I had with her while I could.

Soon enough, the taxi had stopped and the driver was stuck one grubby hand back to take the money I held out. I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the cab and into the cool winter air.

My house looked almost exactly the same as it had when I'd left. The door was still the same unusual shade of purple, and the garden, though coated in snow, was still arranged to near perfection. The only thing that had changed were the decorations. Someone - probably my mother - had put up Christmas lights and some of those light-up lawn reindeer. It took a great amount of my self-restraint to resist the urge to rip down the lazily arranged lights and fix them myself - there would be plenty of time for that later.

Another thing that had changed? The sudden overwhelming panic that I felt at the sight of it. What was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to _do? _

My sister shot me an understanding glance and took my hand in hers and squeezed it again. "Don't worry," she said, "Mom won't say anything. I think she'll just be glad to see you again."

I looked down, unsure of what to say. It hadn't occurred to me that my mom really _did _care that I was gone. I had just assumed she was fine with it because she had let my father get away with classifying me as mentally ill.

"Come on. We can't stand out here all day," Cynthia urged, tugging me towards our house. I held back a sigh before allowing myself to be towed along behind her.

The door was unlocked, as usual, and before I knew it I was standing in the landing of the house I had grown up in. Cynthia wasted no time in shoving me towards the stairs, saying that I needed to unwind and unpack my things. I half-heartedly stuck my tongue out at her and then turned and trudged up the stairs, my bag thumping loudly on the stairs behind me.

When I pushed open my bedroom's door, I was shocked to find that my room had been left virtually untouched. Some of my clothes were still strewn across the floor from my frenzied packing, and there was my desktop computer, the desk messy as ever; some old candy wrappers were still sitting there.

I don't know what I had expected - maybe for my room to be used as a storage area or something - but it most certainly wasn't _this_. I tossed my bag onto my neatly made bed (which was about the only thing that had been changed - I rarely made my bed) and simply walked around my room, taking in every familiar detail. I smiled in spite of myself; my room had always been a safe haven, shut off from the rest of my house. Even now, it provided a sense of tranquility.

The glinting of the sun off of metal caught my eye, and I turned slightly to find an old sketchbook of mine sitting on the floor, several loose pages strewn across the floor. I winced at the sight of the torn up picture of my family, one I had drawn several years ago. I wondered if either of my parents had noticed it. Someone must have - nothing in my room was dusty. My mother had probably come in to clean at some point or another.

I swept it gently aside, ignoring the old emotions threatening to rise inside of me. I remembered how violently I had destroyed that page, just minutes after making the decision to move to Forks.

Feeling slightly put out, I pushed the other fallen papers back into the book. Instead of just shoving the book under my bed like I would have last year, I flipped it open and rifled through my various sketches. There was the rising sun and the moon at its peak, and a picture of Cynthia and I.

What caught me off guard was the very last picture in my sketchbook. I had almost forgotten how young I had been when I'd first seen Jasper - it hadn't occurred to me that I would ever come across my oldest sketches of him. Regardless, there he was on the page in plain black and white, his dark eyes troubled.

I brushed my fingers across the portrait, tracing the places where the deepest of his scars should have been.

Sitting there, I felt some of my pent up anxiety fade. I hadn't left Forks behind, not completely, I realized. It was still there, in between the pages of my drawings.

Maybe that would be enough to keep me sane, even for just a little while


	18. Family

**Why am I still uploading these? **

* * *

**Insomnia**

Chapter 18

It still seemed surreal that I was home. Everything just sort of fell back into place, almost exactly the way it had been before I had left. It was almost like I'd never left. It would have been almost too easy to pretend I hadn't if I didn't have anything waiting for me back in Forks.

The house was eerily quiet compared to that of the Webers'. I had grown so accustomed to hearing the twins running around day in and day out I had come to expect their screeches and laughter. It was like a blanket of silence had fallen over the neighborhood - there wasn't even the distant roar of a car to remind me that civilization hadn't abandoned me completely.

According to Cynthia, our parents wouldn't get home until at least nine o'clock (I resisted the urge to call my mother a coward - what kind of person hid from their own daughter?), so I had taken it upon myself to start dinner and to send my little sister off to hunt down a movie.

One failed attempt at making soup and a smoking packet of Kraft Dinner later, I threw my hands up in exasperation with my own cooking skills (or lack thereof) and abandoned all hope of making a somewhat healthy dinner. I'd almost forgotten how bad I was at cooking.

So, I did what I always did.

I gave up and made s'mores.

"I swear, I am going to be the one and only cause of morbid obesity in the United States," I grumbled, half to myself and half to a bemused Cynthia. She probably thought I had grown two left feet over my time in Forks - I'd practically destroyed our kitchen in my effort to break through the layer of silence that covered our house. Even the loud clanging of falling pots and pans was better than total silence.

"I wouldn't be surprised," she agreed. I hit her with an empty packet that once held graham crackers. "What?"

"You're supposed to lie and say I'm _not,_" I told her.

She simply shrugged. I resisted the urge to shove her off of the counter. I was appreciative of her uncharacteristic chatter - she was doing her best to keep my mind of the looming problem of talking to my parents again. There was no doubting that my father would jump right into questions. He knew, after all, that he had all night to grill answers out of me.

It wasn't that I was afraid of my parents, not really. I could deal with arguing with my father again - I had certainly done enough of it before leaving Biloxi. No, it was the fact that I knew I would start shrinking back into my old shell again. I was finally, _finally _getting better, and it killed me to know how easily I could revert to my old ways, how easy it would be to slip that old mask back on.

Giving myself an internal shake, I grabbed the plate filled with warm s'mores and headed into our almost too-large living room. It felt empty - I supposed I'd spent one too many hours in the Cullens' living room, watching the family of vampires come and go. I'd almost forgotten I belonged to a comparatively small family of four.

My mind was elsewhere as I listened to Cynthia's chatter. I knew I should have been listening, but I couldn't find it in me to be as enthusiastic as I should have been. I nodded and smiled and asked questions, but my mind continuously wandered, wondering what was in store for me, and I found myself wishing that I could control my visions.

It was only when the door creaked open that I was brought back down to earth. In an instant reality came rushing back, any efforts I'd made to try and avoid this moment going out the window. There was no avoiding my parents now.

Cynthia gave my hand one last reassuring squeeze before grabbing the evidence of our unhealthy dinner and slipping quietly from the room. I held back a groan - there went my moral support.

I did my best to look normal, really, I did, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get my muscles to relax completely. My shoulders were still taut with the sudden overwhelming stress I felt, and my hands remained balled into fists.

After the front door swung open, I swear you could have heard a pin drop.

We all just sort of stood there until I finally decided to be the one to break the silence. "Hi, Mom, Dad."

My mom stumbled forwards in a fashion that was somewhat awkward and pulled me into a hug, any previous misgivings about my feelings towards her gone as she was swept up in the moment.

"Oh, welcome home, sweetie," she said. I half-returned her hug, leaning away from her slightly; I still hadn't quite gotten over our last disastrous conversation.

My father cleared his throat. Buying time, I figured. What were you supposed to say to the daughter you had barely been able to look at only a few months previously? "Good to see you again, Alice." He extended a hand, which I shook rigidly.

No one really knew what to say after that, especially not me. I shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, avoiding my father's penetrating gaze. I easily recognized the look he wore, and I was in no state to answer any of the questions burning in his eyes.

Before the silence could become too strained, Cynthia wandered back into the room, now clad in pajamas. "You're back late, Mom," she observed. I glanced at the time - so she was. It was at least fifty-five minutes after her designated arrival time. "Was the mall busy?"

Always the peace keeper. I was thankful to have my sister; she could easily carry on a conversation with either of our parents, which took away any opportunity that my father might have to bring up my appointments with Dr. Campbell. I didn't feel like telling him that I had skipped out on them for the last few times - I didn't figure that would get a very good response.

"Yes, there was barely any room to breathe," my mom complained. "Christmas shopping is already an ordeal _without _feeling like a sardine while doing it." Needless to say, I hadn't gotten my nasty habit of shopping from my mother.

"Good thing I stayed home, then," Cynthia said.

From there, my mother and little sister kept up a steady conversation; once or twice they tried to include me, but I was happy just listening to them. I didn't trust myself to not slip up and say something to one of them that I would regret. They, after all, knew next to nothing of my inner turmoils, and I'd like to keep it that way. The last thing Cynthia needed on her mind were _my _problems.

My dad disappeared at one point to change out of his work clothes, and once he returned he just stood on the outskirts of the sitting area. Had I not known better, I would have thought him a shadow, not really part of the family. I was like my dad in that way, sometimes; I completely withdrew if something upset me in order to prevent myself from exploding.

Eventually, Cynthia was practically dragged upstairs and to her bedroom. I had a sneaking suspicion that she would have sat there with me all night had my parents not done something about it. We didn't need another insomniac in the family.

It was when both my mom and sister had disappeared that my dad made his move. He took a few almost hesitant steps forwards and turned to face me. "Why don't you sit down, Alice?"

I almost flinched. Those had been his exact words the morning after I'd told him... I wondered if he knew how much that memory still bothered me - I doubted it. When had _he _ever been faced with the realization that his father didn't want him anymore? I'd been so sure I hated him that day, but somehow his words had managed to hurt me.

It had been that day I'd completely disappeared into my shell.

Despite my sudden returning fear, I sat down right on the edge of our leather couch. "Did you want something?" I ventured, steadily holding his gaze. He looked almost surprised at my sudden boldness - no less than four months ago I would have been staring determinedly at my feet, avoiding his eyes at any cost.

"Yes, I did," he said, a businesslike air about him. "I've received several calls from Dr. Campbell's office asking why you've missed your more recent appointments. Would you care to explain?"

Damnit. I'd forgotten they would have called home. "Um, not really."

"It's not up for debate, Alice."

I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "So I haven't been going. Big deal. He's not _helping_ me, Dad. I feel terrible every time I leave, not better. What's the point?"

His face was expressionless. I _hated _when he did that - when anyone did it. It bothered me that people could lock themselves away so easily. "We sent you to Forks with the understanding that you would go to your scheduled appointments. If you're not going to go, you don't need to be in Forks."

If he thought I would come back here to be sent to some boarding school for the mentally unstable without a fight, he had another thing coming.

"That's not really up to you, is it?" I asked, eerily calm. "I needn't remind you that I'm a legal adult? You can't control what I do. I only agreed to go to Forks to avoid confrontation, _not _because you had control over me. You're just going to have to come to terms with the fact that I will never be what you see as perfect. You still have Cynthia - don't screw her up."

Without giving him a chance to respond, I turned away from my father, who looked kind of like someone had slapped him in the face, and slowly walked up the stairs, trying to work out my chances of being able to get to sleep tonight.

I was only halfway up the staircase when my mom appeared at the top of the stairs. She looked confused as she asked, "Where are you going?"

I raised an eyebrow. "To bed?"

"It's only eleven, dea- ...Alice." She hadn't forgotten our last conversation, then. I felt a twinge of guilt when I remembered the way I had lashed out at her, but I couldn't find it in me to wish that I hadn't. My parents needed to know that my forgiveness was not something easily earned. I would be perfectly content to remove them almost completely from my life, only exchanging brief phone calls and Christmas cards, but I knew that my mother wouldn't give up that easily.

"It's scientifically proven that teenagers need at least eight or nine hours of sleep," I said with a shrug. I understood why she was confused, now - before I'd left I usually didn't head up to my room until at _least _midnight.

"But won't it be hard for you to get to sleep?" she wondered.

Again, I shrugged. "Maybe."

She let me go.

Had Biloxi _always _been so boring? I honestly couldn't remember what I'd done for fun before I'd left for Forks - I remembered going out a lot with Cynthia, but now that I flat-out refused to use the money my parents put into my bank account every month (how else would I ever learn to manage money?) I couldn't just go around and spend money.

I'd only been home for about five days, and already I was running dry on ideas for things to do. I'd already gone out with my sister and gotten most of my Christmas shopping done, and most of the stores had been sucked dry by last-minute shoppers, so there hadn't been much of a selection anyways.

Going outside was out of the question. What felt like a hurricane had blown into town three days ago and showed no sign of stopping. No matter where you were in our house, you could hear the harsh wind slamming frozen rain into the windows.

Today was a particularly slow day. Cynthia had made some sort of plans to go to the movies with her new friends from high school, which was perfectly fine with me, because I didn't think I would have been able to function properly had I so much as tried to do anything today. Sleep had proved next to impossible since I'd arrived home; something was stopping me. Despite the fact that my parents were leaving the topic of my mental stability alone, I felt mounting stress. Something told me that the sudden reappearance of my chronic insomnia didn't have anything to do with my parents, or even _me, _for that matter, but I didn't know _what._

I had simply been returning to my room with a cup of water when the skull-splitting headache hit. I stumbled and almost fell into one of the tables littering the upstairs hallway. I felt my eyes drooping, and instantly I knew what was happening.

Oh, no, _no. _Not this again_. _Just when I thought that maybe, just _maybe_ I could accept my visions...

I struggled to keep myself moving forwards; maybe I could force my drowsiness away. I knew that my hopes were in vain, but I could at least _try _to keep this from happening again.

I didn't even make it to my bed before I completely blacked out.


	19. Surrender

******So, we're going to pretend that it snows really hard in Biloxi. Because apparently little!me thought that Mississippi was farther north and experienced harsher winters. It snows in the South sometimes... right?**

**...I'm sorry. **

* * *

**Insomnia**

Chapter 19

_The snow is falling unrelentingly, gathering into small piles and being blown across streets. Among the white blanket of chilly precipitation a small group of teenage girls are just barely visible, their heads bowed against the harsh wind. _

_Cars are driving slowly, their headlights struggling to cut through the blizzard. They zoom by the girls who wait at the crosswalk. The lights are almost completely hidden by the snow - they do not know if it is safe to cross, nor do the moving cars know if the streetlights are red or green. _

"_Let's go," one of the girls, a blonde, calls to her friends. They look up briefly to show that they have heard her and dash after her as she darts out onto the street. As far as they are aware, there are no cars nearby, and any that are approaching must _surely _be driving slow enough to be able to stop upon seeing them. _

_The dark-haired girl is straggling, falling behind the others. She has dropped something. Unaware of the car driving blindly towards her, she doubles back to pick it up._

_Her friends, already safely across the street, spot the fast-moving car. They shout warnings, their eyes alight with panic, but they are too late._

_The car swerves violently-_

My eyes snapped open, and I was shaking all over, covered in cold sweat. Memories flooded my mind - I could too easily remember the last time this had happened. I had been rendered useless last time, unaware of what I had seen, too late to save my grandmother...

I could sure as hell save Cynthia.

Scrambling to my feet, I staggered a few steps down the hallway on unsteady feet, bracing myself against the wall. I wasn't thinking about what I was going to do - all I knew was that I had to save _my little sister. _

What would I do if I lost her? I _needed _her. She was my _baby sister _- I'd done everything with her, made so many memories... she had kept me sane before I had been sent to Forks. Before Jasper, she had been my rock. She had listened to me, patient, mature beyond her years. In a way, _she _had always looked after _me. _If I ever lost her...

_No, _I growled at myself, _don't think that. You had that vision for a reason. You _have _to save her. _

I must have looked quite a sight when I came flying into the kitchen, looking for the keys to my car. My mom shot me a confused look, and my father, on one of his rare days off, stood up. He must have picked up on my frenzied determination, but I knew that it would be foolish to hope that he would understand.

"Keys... keys..." I muttered, my eyes sweeping the room. Just as my gaze fell on them, my dad strode across the kitchen and snatched them up.

"Just where are you planning on going, Alice?" he asked.

I was seeing red. Could he not tellthat something was wrong? "Cynthia. She's..." I struggled to find a way to explain myself. "There's going to be a car crash - _please _give me my keys," I begged.

He didn't seem to register what I had said. "Alice, you need to sit down. Your 'visions' are-"

I didn't let him finish his sentence before I dashed from the room. If I couldn't drive, I would run, then. I didn't have time to argue with him today, not now that my little sister's life was on the line.

Without even a coat, I wrenched open our front door and charged headfirst into the snowstorm. I only just barely registered the cold snow being whipped at me by the wind as I ran, blindly turning corners and dodging objects like garbage can lids that had been blown away from their rightful place.

Within minutes, I could feel myself going numb from the cold. Every instinct I possessed screamed at me to turn back, to let someone else handle it, to get _warm, _but adrenaline and my almost overwhelming terror drove me forwards. The word 'rational' didn't mean a thing to me right now.

_Just seven more blocks._

I don't know how long I ran, but it felt like an entire lifetime passed in the time I ran from my house to where my vision had taken place. There were the streetlights, glowing dimly through the thick snow, and there was the group of girls...

I arrived just in time to watch the car slam into my sister.

Grief does strange things to you.

For me, it makes me go numb all over. My brain just sort of stops functioning. I don't _think _anymore, just see. It's as though I'm not even living my life, but merely watching it from the outside. Oh, I'm still there, moving and speaking, but I'm not _me - _I'mjust a shadow, a puppet, even.

I also don't take things in. Even as I sat beside my sister's unconscious form in the ambulance, her hand clenched in between both of mine so hard that it turned white, I just couldn't process what had happened.

When they took her away from me on a stretcher, things finally started to sink in. I curled my knees into my chest on the hard plastic chair in the emergency room, my mind reeling. My sister's life was hanging by a thread. I hadn't gotten there in time. I had _foreseen the accident, _and it still hadn't been enough. I hadn't been fast enough, strong enough...

What good were my visions doing me if they still allowed _this _to happen? There were nothing but a curse: first my grandmother had died, and now Cynthia. For all I knew, it never would have happened had I not seen it coming. It was almost like I was being punished, but I didn't know what I had done to deserve it. I had always been good, going to church every Sunday before moving to Forks, trying my hardest to be the perfect little girl every parent wanted...

Obviously, nothing I had done had been good enough, because here I sat, alone in a hospital, with no way of knowing if Cynthia would survive to see tomorrow. From what I had heard, she at _least _had two cracked ribs and more than just a few broken bones. She had been '_lucky_', according to the experts in medicine.

I'd believe _that_ when I saw it.

The minutes dragged as I sat there, staring unseeingly at the floor before me. I looked up only when the back door banged open. My father, who wore an expression of mixed fear and fury, came flying in, trailed by my mother, who was in hysterics.

I was sort of glad I hadn't inherited either of their ways of dealing with stress. Maybe being able to shrink into a shell _was _a good thing, after all.

The moment my dad spotted me, anger seemed to become his dominant emotion. I felt my heart sink. I knew the look on his face - he had found a way to blame this on me. I couldn't really say his anger was unjust, either - I blamed myself, too. Of course, if he had _just given me my keys..._

"Alice." His voice was surprisingly calm; it was almost scary. "What happened?"

I took a deep breath, opened my mouth to explain, and somehow ended up breaking into tears, all of my pent up emotion flooding out. My disappointment in myself, my anger, my terror, and my desperation.

"I- I don't know," I cried. "I tried to save her, but you wouldn't- wouldn't- give me my k-keys-"

His eyes narrowed. "Do _not _try to blame this on me, Mary Alice. It's you and your... your wretched _visions." _I looked up. It was the first time he had ever referred to my visions as though they were real.

I almost wished he hadn't.

"I don't know what's gone on, but you knew this was going to happen. Why didn't you stop her from going out?" he demanded. I looked down, not responding. I didn't need to explain this to him. He probably wouldn't believe me even if I _did _try to tell him that my visions didn't come when I wanted them to. Had I known anything was going to happen to Cynthia, I would have found a way to make her stay home.

My mom seemed at a loss for words. Her eyes were still shining with repressed tears, and her hands were clasped together with such force that the visible parts of her palms were white enough to match the snow outside. I wished she would say something, tell my dad that he was being ridiculous, that it couldn't possibly be all my fault.

Of course, wishing never got me anywhere. She had never had the guts to come to my defense before, so why should she now? She was a coward, and, judging by the look in her eyes, she knew it, too. I wanted to stand up and shake some sense in her, but I knew that would only further my father's growing suspicion that I was some sort of demon spawn.

"_Well?" _my father eventually growled. "Are you going to explain to me why, exactly, you just let this happen to Cynthia?"

"I don't need to explain anything to you," I snapped, avoiding his gaze. "I love Cynthia more than you ever could, and you'll just have to take my word on that. I _don't _need a reminder as to how pathetic and bothersome I am, okay? I _know_ my visions are useless, but I also know that I've done more than you could have to try and save Cynthia. I didn't just pawn the job off on someone else. Couldn't you just shut _up _for once_?_"

He slowly raised an arm and pointed to the door. His words dripping with venom, he said, _"Go."_

I simply stared at him.

"I said, _go." _Silence. I didn't budge. _"Get. Out."_

Grief.

It does strange things to you.

Cold, hard, and emotionless, I turned and stormed out of the room.

For once, I didn't look back.

Wandering through the virtually empty streets of Biloxi that night, I had too much time to think. My thoughts sometimes seemed nonexistent, and at others my mind was working so fast that I could barely keep up with them.

Thinking had never done me much justice - I could talk myself into anything. Sitting alone each night, staring blankly into the darkness stretching before me, I had always had time to think. Maybe thoughts were what kept me up at night - I had too many thoughts whirling around inside my head.

I didn't know where my feet where taking me. I didn't even know if I wanted to stop. Maybe I could just keep going until I was far, far away, in a different city, or state, even. I just wanted to be alone. Maybe that wasn't the best thing for me - if anything, I needed the love and support of my friends. I should go straight back to Forks, where my heart lay, but something was holding me back...

What if something happened to _them, _too? I knew I wouldn't be able to bear it if I failed my friends and family in Forks.

Maybe, just _maybe, _they would be better off without me. Who was I to them, anyways? I had only been there for a few months; I could fade away just as easily as I had appeared.

_What about Jasper? _a small part of my mind nagged me. I paused a moment to think about that. I knew how much I was growing to care for Jasper, but I couldn't speak for him. Surely he could easily move on, find another 'mate'? I mean, he had a whole sea of beautiful vampires to choose from, ones much better suited for him than a puny, fragile human.

Yes, _of course _he would be fine.

After that, the hours seemed to blend together. I had long since lost feeling in my limbs, but it didn't start to bother me until the moon had reached it's peak and the wind grew bitter, stinging my exposed skin.

Eventually, I had to admit defeat. The sign of some sort of donut shop was glowing in the distance - Dunkin' Donuts, I thought. They were open 24 hours, right? I figured that, if they weren't, I could just collapse in front of the building. At least there was an overhang to block some of the falling snow.

Much to my luck, the open sign was blinking in one of the windows. I pushed open the door, closing my eyes momentarily to savour the warmth.

When I reopened my eyes, it took me a few seconds to realize that the cafe was almost completely empty, save the woman with graying hair behind the counter. She looked bored - I didn't blame her. Not many people would stumble into a Dunkin' Donuts at - I glanced at the clock - twelve in the morning?

The woman looked up, almost surprised at having a teenage girl walk into the shop. "What can I get'cha, dear?" Her voice held a slight Southern twang. I almost smiled at the resemblance to Jasper.

"Oh, um..." I glanced around; I had no money, but I didn't suppose I would be allowed to just sit there without getting anything. "Can I have, uh..." My gaze landed on a tap. Bingo. "A glass of water? Please?"

She took another look at me, frowning when she noticed my disheveled appearance. "No, you need somethin' warm and sweet. Sit down, and I'll fix you a cup of hot chocolate."

"I haven't got any money on me," I mumbled, embarrassed.

The woman didn't seem fazed. "No problem, this one's on me. We don't get any business at this hour, anyways - we'll have to throw all the leftovers away in the morning."

A few minutes later, I found myself sitting at the counter on a too-high stool, a steaming styrofoam cup of hot chocolate sitting in front of me. I took a few gulps, enjoying the warmth spreading through me and pretending that my throat wasn'tblistering.

I found that, once I was warm, I could only stare into my cup, my gaze completely blank. I must have looked insane - honestly, I wouldn't have blamed the woman if she'd decided to throw me out.

Instead of giving me the boot, she came over and looked over the counter at me. "If you don't mind my askin', what's a dear like you doing out alone at this hour?"

I shrugged. "I... I needed some fresh air."

"Well, you certainly seem to have gotten enough of that," she laughed before her expression grew more serious. "Do your parents know where you are?"

I traced a hand around the edge of my cup, avoiding her gaze. "I'm not sure they'd care," I said. "They're probably with my sister, anyways. She's hurt."

Her face fell. "Oh, dear. That's never good." There was a silence in which I took another sip of my drink. After a few moments, she said, "So, where are you headed?"

I decided to answer honestly.

"I don't know," I said. "I thought I was going home, to Washington, but now I'm not sure."

"Why is that?"

She looked so _genuinely concerned. _Something made me want to trust her.

"I'm not sure it would be good for my friends and family there," I murmured. "I think they'd be better off, _healthier, _without me."

"And what about you? Will _you _be happier and healthier without them?"

That brought me up short.

Honestly, I hadn't even _considered _my own desires.

"No," I admitted. "I wouldn't."

"Darlin'-" she leaned forwards and took one of my hands in hers, "-sometimes you have to put yourself before others. You have to meet _your _heart's desires before you can help meet anyone else's."

I nodded slowly. She was right, I realized. Was I _really _willing to be cut off from not only my family in Biloxi, but my friends in Forks, too? Did I have it in me to go and start a new life on my own? I would break sooner or later if I forced myself to do that. I wanted to build a life from Forks, not some random town that I had used as an escape.

And then there was Jasper. He was something different, that boy. I knew that someday, somewhere, I would have severely regretted just _leaving_ him, no goodbyes or explanations. I had only just found him after so many years of dreaming of him - was I honestlyprepared to just give him up?

I knew the answer to all of that.

No.

No I wasn't.

I had to stop being such a coward - I needed to _suck it up _and _move on. _I couldn't run from everything. Sooner or later, it would all catch up with me.

My thought process must have been displayed on my face, for the woman behind the counter patted my hand once and, her eyes crinkled around the edges with a smile, said, "Go home to your family, darlin'."

I shot her a smile as I jumped off the stool. "Thank you, both for the advice and the hot chocolate."

If there was one thing that I was certain of as I left that shop, it was that I would be paying the Dunkin' Donuts in Forks a _lot _more visits.


	20. Desire

**Hiya, folks. I've decided to put a fact about Insomnia at the beginning of each chapter to make up for the poor development below. Basically things that aren't covered in the story and things that have changed. **

**Today's topic: Alice's family!**

**#1 - **Christian (referenced as Alice's father) is actually Alice's _step_-father. She is the product of very short, loveless relationship and has never met her biological father. Christian has never quite been able to accept Alice as his own despite having lived in her house since she was three years old.

**#2 - **Alice gets her psychic abilities from her paternal grandmother, of whom she does not know the existence.

* * *

**Insomnia**

Chapter 20

It was strange, walking out my front door for the last time.

I knew that, no matter what my life had in store for me, I would never return to the home I had grown up in, the one that held so many memories, good and bad. I knew that, someday, I would regret the moment that I left my life in Biloxi behind completely, but I also knew that today I could start over. Piece by piece, I could repair myself, knowing that my parents held no power over me now. That chapter of my life was over.

My bag slung over my shoulder - many of my belongings crammed into its small storage area - I walked down my driveway without even sparing my old home a second glance. It was just another house to me, now, I supposed.

I would hurt for a long time, there was no denying that. I loved my parents deeply, no matter what they may have said or done in the past. Among all of the things my father had done to me recently were the memories of laughter and smiles, memories of the times when we hadn't been so screwed up.

My mother, I knew, would miss me. She had always been the one to cheer me up after a bad day.

And Cynthia. Oh, Cynthia... I had no way of knowing if she would be okay, or of even receiving news of her. Love her as I may, I just _couldn't _keep any contact with either of my parents, now. It would just reopen old wounds in the future, and speaking to my father again was simply out of the question. I would always remember the look in his eyes...

Sucking in a shaky breath, I only half-successfully shoved down the despair rising in me. I had to be strong for myself, now. Just myself, I realized. I didn't have to watch out for Cynthia anymore; she was growing up. She'd start dating soon, I was sure - she was a pretty girl, already prettier than me by far. Someday, she would get married, have a family, a _life. _One that I would miss out on. I didn't need a dream to tell me that.

In a way, I was leaving everything I'd ever worked or hoped for behind.

I walked slowly now, warmer now that I had stopped to grab a hat and coat from our closet on my way out.

The nostalgia I felt was bittersweet as I walked down the streets I had for years - streets that I would never walk down again, not if I kept true to my word for once.

Focusing purely on which foot I was putting in front of the other, I barely noticed time passing, and soon enough I was standing in the busy parking lot of the airport. A lot of planes would be cancelled, but I had a feeling that the storm would die down within the next few hours.

Maybe being psychic _did _have it's perks. I'd be an amazing weatherwoman.

Anxious now to be on my way, I hurried into the airport and let myself get swept up in the hustle and bustle of those whose planes had been delayed. Lines were long, I noticed - fantastic. I didn't know how long the numbness I'd managed to lull myself into would last. The last thing I needed was to break down in the middle of an airport.

Though, judging by my company, I wouldn't be the only one. People were exhausted and irritated - I'd already seen several tears slipping down people's faces.

I sort of slipped into a trance as I bought my ticket and was informed that my flight would be an hour late taking off. I wandered aimlessly around the airport for god-knows how long until a robotic woman's voice came onto the intercom, announcing that my flight was going to be taking off. I had a miniature panic attack when I realized I'd have to go through customs, until it became apparent that, among all the cancelled flights, customs was going to be the one line that wasn't going to take forever.

Actually getting onto the plane was a hassle. I was jostled around by panicked people whose earlier flights had been cancelled and were now worried that they wouldn't fit onto the plane. Breathing soon became a difficult task - the plane was so packed and hot that my lungs were having a hard time getting enough oxygen.

Honestly, I probably wouldn't have noticed myself passing out. I didn't think I would have _cared. _I'd already failed everyone I cared about - why not fail myself, too?

After the plane took off, time decided to play mind games with me again. Most of the time, it felt like the plane would never land. I wanted to be _away _from these people - the man beside me was snoring loudly, and the woman next to him was chewing her gum in such a manner that I was sure that the people at the back of the plane could hear her. I just wanted to be _home. _

I couldn't help but wonder if I had anything waiting for me in Forks. I wouldn't put it past my father to have called the Webers to tell them that I no longer needed to stay with them - after all, I refused to go to therapy, and there was no way that he would continue to waste money on my treatment, therefore giving me no 'legitimate' reason to stay in Forks. For all _he _knew, I mightn't even have gone back to Forks.

Maybe I _didn't _want the plane to land... perhaps being stuck here forever would be better than facing whatever lay ahead of me.

Biting my lip, I turned to look out of the window. There was no winning, was there? Staying in Biloxi would have meant living a life filled with constant misery and stress. Going away from all of that and living on my own would have meant starting my life all over _again _and leaving my life in Forks behind. Coming home seemed to be the only option.

Now, sitting on the plane to Seattle, I wasn't sure that even _this _would turn out well. How would I get back to Forks? I'd used up the last of my money on my ticket, so pay phones were out of the question. What was I supposed to do, _walk? _

Yeah, right.

When the plane finally, _finally _landed, it was like swimming upstream trying to get off of the stupid thing. People were no less calm now that they'd reached their destination, and, once more, I found myself being smashed into seats as people stampeded to the opening doors.

By the time I'd finally gotten my bag and gone through customs yet again, I still hadn't thought of a way to get home. I was starting not to care anymore. What did it matter what happened to me? I sort of deserved to freeze trying to get home. After all, it would be minimal suffering compared to Cynthia's.

Grinding my teeth together to prevent myself from making any sound as tears slipped down my cheeks, I pushed my way out of the airport, not even feeling myself getting jostled around.

Just when I thought I'd gotten ahold of myself, I had to go and _cry _again. I wanted to kick myself for being so weak. Maybe, if I could just shut myself down I wouldn't even _be _in this mess.

But I knew I never would be able to. I'd gone over this with myself a thousand times, but no matter how hard I tried, my emotions would always end up ruling my actions. Maybe that's why my life had taken a sudden nosedive. I never _thought, _I just _did._

The bitter wind was almost welcome as I pushed myself forwards, right through the Seattle airport's parking lot and down the side of the busy highway. I knew I must have looked so out of place - how often did you see a teenage girl out in this sort of weather, let alone walking down a highway? Actually, scratch that - how often did you see _anyone _walking down a highway?

I don't know how long I walked. It could have been hours, minutes, or even days, but eventually I just gave up, letting my knees buckle in exhaustion beneath me. I simply laid on my back, squinting against the snowflakes falling on my face.

Had I not felt the freezing cold lump pressing against the back of my leg, I probably would have been content to just lay there on the ground forever, letting the snow, and, in turn, the earth, swallow me. My curiosity, however, nagged at me until I could no longer stand it. Sighing, I reached into my back pocket, my frozen fingers fumbling to grab the unknown item.

When I dropped it into my lap, I stared at it for a few moments before registering what it was.

Cynthia's silver cell phone glinted in the moonlight. I remembered her handing it to me earlier today, telling me to charge it as it was almost out of battery. Unsurprisingly, I'd forgotten to plug it in.

Not even feeling them roll down my cheeks, I watched a few teardrops fall into the snow before me. I was pathetic, and I knew it. Even an item belonging to my little sister could set me off. It wasn't just that she was hurt that upset me now - the fact that I'd decided to leave her behind in favor of my own happiness - my own _selfishness - _unnerved me. She had always come first, but now... I didn't even know if I'd see her again. There would be nothing to tell me if she'd survived.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts long enough to decide who I was going to call, I flipped open the phone and punched the power button. The phone took an obscene amount of time to turn on, and it took me even longer to get my fingers to respond to my brain's signals, but eventually the dial tone sounded through the crisp winter air.

The phone only rang four times before he picked up.

"Hello?" He sounded confused.

"Jasper?" I asked, my voice slightly hoarse from lack of use. "Sorry to call, but..." I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted to say. I didn't really want to explain anything over the phone.

"Alice? Is everything okay?" Jasper's tone darkened.

I wished I could have just shaken my head rather than respond aloud. "No," I replied bluntly, "I just figured that you'd be the best person to call right now... you're used to finding me stranded, right?" My weak attempt at humor was destroyed by my voice trembling. "Could... could you please pick me up?"

"You even have to ask?" His words, light as they were, held an undertone of worry. Again, I bit my lip, hating myself in that instant. I caused people so much unnecessary stress. Why couldn't I just get a handle on myself?

"Just drive along the highway to Seattle - I haven't got any idea where I've landed myself. As usual." I sighed, ignoring the fresh round of tears springing to my eyes, frustration and sorrow lumping together and creating one hell of an emotional rollercoaster.

"Alright. That's fine," Jasper said, pausing for a moment, as though deciding whether or not he wanted to say anything else. "Just... just stay warm, Alice."

Something told me that wasn't what he'd wanted to say.

Time didn't seem to pass as I simply sat there, staring blankly at the snow collecting in front of me.

And yet, impossibly, it did.

It felt like no less than a minute before the blue Jaguar came screeching to a stop on the side of the road. I looked up, only having it in me to half-register what was going on around me.

Jasper took one short moment to glance around him to make sure no one was watching him before materializing at my side, his eyes dark with worry. I guess he had a right to be concerned - I mean, _something _must have gone wrong to make me come home so early. I felt a twinge of pain at the mere thought of all the things I had left behind in Biloxi.

"Alice..." he murmured. The emotional atmosphere must be killing him - even on a bad day I rarely got to this state. I was practically catatonic.

Blinking, I looked up at him, unsure if he wanted me to say something. In all honesty, I didn't trust myself not to burst into tears if I tried to speak.

"Come on," Jasper said. "Let's get you out of the cold."

Instantly, I felt his steady arms helping me up from the ground. My movements were stiff as we made our way to the car; cold as I was, Jasper almost felt _warm. _You could imagine the shock I felt stepping into the heated car - it was almost like I'd never felt warmth before. So numb had I been, I hadn't even felt the cold setting into me.

"Oh," I gasped. Once the initial surprise had worn off, I breathed out a sigh of relief, letting the warm air wash over me.

I practically collapsed into the passenger seat, exhausted from the day's events. A part of me just wanted to curl up and fall asleep. However, the more dominant part of me screamed at me to stay awake, afraid of what I might see if I closed my eyes.

Shivering, I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, staring unseeingly out of the front window. I couldn't help but feel somewhat nervous sitting in a car after what had happened to Cynthia, especially one traveling at high speeds.

Eventually, I flat-out _couldn't _watch us pass the other cars on the highway - I didn'twant to know how fast we were hurtling down the road. If we crashed...

Closing my eyes against the resurfacing images of Cynthia's accident, I buried my face in my knees, glad for the physical barrier between Jasper and I - this way he wouldn't see the tears soaking my jeans.

Everything around me seemed to fade into black as I sat there, finally overwhelmed by the flood of emotions that I had been holding off all day. Just hours ago my sister had been hit by a car. Just hours ago my father had kicked me out. Just hours ago had I said goodbye to my life as I'd known it...

That brought on another round of hysteria. I felt Jasper's hand rubbing soothing circles on my back, and I actually found myself feeling slightly comforted by his touch - it reminded me that I wasn't alone. He was like an anchor to reality - I knew that I would too easily be able to make myself believe that I really _was _alone in all this.

I knew that I should be, though. It was unfair that I dragged down everyone down with me.

Finally, I lifted my head. Instead of looking at Jasper, however, I looked out of the window beside me.

"I'm sorry," I sniffled, my words disjointed and my breaths shaky. "I - should have gotten a taxi. I wasn't - thinking."

"Don't apologize." Jasper's words were soft, understanding. He could tell how fragile I was right now. I wished he would just make my pain go away - I knew he could. Just make it all disappear, so easily...

His words broke into my thoughts. "Alice, you have to handle your own emotions."

I turned to face him, startled. Were my thoughts really that easy to figure out, just by reading my emotions?

"Why?" I demanded, feeling like a child. "You can make it all go away - why won't you?"

"Where would you be if you had to rely on me all the time?" His words held a quiet wisdom. Never before had he made me feel so much _younger _than him. I'd almost forgotten what he'd lived through, how much more life experience he had than me.

And, oddly, I didn't care. Crossing my arms, I glared at him, the expression made less impressive by my tear-stained cheeks. Why did he have to make this so difficult? Just this one time_, _couldn't he fix it?

Jasper sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You do realize that I _hate _letting you suffer, right?" I didn't respond. "It's painful. I really wish I could just reach into your feelings and make everything bad go away, but I _can't. _It's not that I don't want to." His eyes were wide, pleading with me. I looked away, glowering angrily out the window.

"I knew coming back was a mistake. I just cause everyone unnecessary stress."

"_What?" _

"You'd be so much better off without me being, well, _me _all the time. I'll just end up hurting you in the end - just like I hurt _her_," I hissed, my hands clenching into fists. "Cynthia would be fine right now had it not been for me."

What had happened to my sureness as I'd left my home behind? I was too easily broken. I'd never be strong enough - maybe I just had to accept that. Work within my own boundaries.

I didn't _want _to. I just wanted to run away, to escape everything.

"Alice." Jasper put his hands on my shoulders and turned me towards him. I didn't look at him. "_Alice." _When I still refused to look up, he took my chin between his fingers and tilted it upwards. "I could _never _be better off without you. I _need_ you. I need the feelings that come with being with you. You're..." He paused, as though deciding whether or not to continue. "You're the first person I've been able to love in over a century."

That brought me up short.

"I am?"

He nodded.

It took me a moment to realize that it didn't matter whether I believed him or not.

Closing my eyes, I leaned into him.

"You have _no _ideahow much I needed to hear that."


	21. Control

**Today we shall discuss the past! :D Facts are less depressing today. **

**#1 - **Bella was not deliberately turned into a vampire.

In the 1970s, she had the misfortune of being in a park through which Edward was cutting on his way to hunt. Being half in predator mode already because of his intense thirst, he caught her scent and lost control almost immediately, attacking her. He caught himself soon after biting her and took her back to Carlisle for help. I don't know how you woo someone you tried to kill, but Edward managed, apparently. Don't ask me how. (I mean, we all know that a certain Ms Swan is a bit... erm... lacking in the department of logical decision making.)

**#2 - **Alice doesn't remember this, but when she was younger, she had an imaginary friend named 'Mr Whitlock' (frequently mispronounced 'Mr Whibwock'). Her mother still has Alice's old drawings of him, which depict a teenaged-looking boy with long, wavy blonde hair and yellow eyes. On days during which Alice was in a bad mood, Mr Whitlock's eyes changed to red because she said he understood how she felt.

**#3 - **Alice used to mispronounce 'socks' as 'secks'.

**Now, if you must, proceed to the story. I apologize for the following melodrama.**

* * *

**Insomnia**

Chapter 21

For the next month, I was okay. Slowly, I was piecing myself back together, restoring some essence of _me. _With the weight of constant worry of my parents lifted from my shoulders, I was finally free to do what _I _thought was best for _me, _not what I thought would please _them _in the long run_. _

I should have known that it was too good to last.

After all, whenever had anything gone right in my life? It would have been too simple, made too much _sense. _

I guess I should have been used to it.

I'd been picking at my lunch, my appetite only half there for once.

Edward tensed slightly, which immediately set the rest of the Cullens off. Edward wasn't one to overreact to trivial human thoughts, from what I had seen. This had to be something important.

Bella touched his arm, bringing him back to reality. "Edward, what is it?"

He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "Nothing that _directly_ relates to us," he said. "There are three nomads in the area, but, as far as I can tell, they haven't taken any notice of us. They're curious about the vampire scent all over campus, though - they wonder if they've come onto someone's territory."

"Are they hunting?" Jasper asked, glancing at me. I resisted the urge to make a face - like anyone with any sort of sense would go for _me_, not when there were big, healthy teenage boys afoot_. _

Edward, too, flashed me a glance. "They haven't decided if they are or not. It _would _be best for someone to stay with Alice, at least when she's not in class, though."

This time I _did _make a face. "Is that reallynecessary? I mean, what are the odds that they'd go for someone my size? I don't have enough blood to feed a baby."

The look Jasper shot me was filled with such incredulity I swear that Mike Newton could have felt it on the other side of the room. "Do you have _any _idea how potent your scent is? The odds are actually _higher_ for you."

"I _knew _I shouldn't have used that strawberry-scented shampoo this morning."

He rolled his eyes. "Alice, could you at least _try _to take this seriously?"

I gave a dramatic sigh. "I _guess _so. But I don't see what you're all so wound up about - there are five of you and three of them. The odds are in your favor, and, coming from me, that means a lot."

Shrugging, I stood from my chair and grabbed my tray, the remnants of my food sliding around as I adjusted the strap of my schoolbag.

"Coming?" I turned back to Jasper, who snapped out of his silent conversation with Edward. Ugh, it felt like I was _never _going to get used to Edward's freaky mind-reading thing - sometimes it was just annoying, and at other times it just flat-out _worried _me. My mind had always been the one place I had been able to hide, and now that I was dating the empathetic Jasper and was on speaking terms with his family of nosy vampires, there was no hiding anything_. _

Of course, when I dreamt, they couldn't hide much from me, either. I rarely thought before mentioning something that hadn't happened yet - only when I noticed the slightly confused look of whoever I'd let my tongue slip around did I realize that I'd said something out of the ordinary. Sometimes, I didn't even _need _a dream to know things. Little things came to me, like what the weather was going to be for the next week or who was going to win the upcoming high school football game.

I suppose it came with being more open to my second sight nowadays - Jasper had gradually coaxed me out of me out of my vision-lockdown phase, convincing me that whatever went on in my brain couldn't affect the outside world.

I still didn't completely believe him.

"Of course. You don't think I'd ditch my babysitting duties, do you?" Jasper said, his eyes gleaming mischievously as they did every time he was presented with a chance to tease me. I elbowed him lightly in the ribs, because god knows that I'd end up with a broken arm if I put any force into the gesture.

"We're in the same class_, _Jasper. It's not _babysitting," _I protested.

"If you say so." He grinned. I glared at him, but I was sure he could tell that my anger wasn't heartfelt. It rarely was.

Biology passed without any homicides, and, therefore, rather uneventfully. We were getting into the unit on cells, and everything we'd done for the past two days had been boring, mind-numbing review. I wondered how the Cullens stood repeating high school over and over again - I could hardly take brief review of topics we'd covered in eleventh grade.

Ugh. The mere thought of going through high school again made me want to smash my head against a wall.

The only thing off was Jasper's acute awareness of his surroundings. Though he hid it well, I could guess that he was tasting the emotional atmosphere, searching for signs of potential danger from the nomads.

Stupid, overprotective boyfriend.

He said nothing as he walked me to my next class. I was growing more worried with each passing minute - what threat could three wandering nomad vampires pose that could worry the Cullens so much?

Standing in front of the Spanish building, I finally voiced my worries. "You... you don't think they'll _actually_ killanyone, do you?"

Jasper didn't respond immediately. "I don't know," he replied, seeming reluctant to admit uncertainty. "It's almost impossible to tell - nomads are too unpredictable. I would know."

I bit my lip, nodding. All the faces of my human friends flashed through my mind. If one of them was attacked...

Only a few minutes passed before Emmett showed up, which was apparently Jasper's cue to leave. After squeezing my hand once, he was gone, just as silent as ever. As I watched him go, a terrible sense of dread washed over me. Taking a deep breath, I tried to ignore it, telling myself that I had nothing to worry about, but, rather than disappearing it settled in the pit of my stomach.

Emmett looked at me. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm worried, I guess." I felt more like I was trying to convince myself than him.

He grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Don't worry, I'll pound anyone who takes a snap at you."

I smiled weakly at him, still overwhelmed by the feeling that something bad was coming. I could remember too easily the last time I had felt like this, right before leaving for Biloxi. Cynthia had been in her accident less than ten days later. I shuddered at the memory.

_Maybe this time will be different, _I told myself. _It could just be a coincidence. Maybe you _are _just worried._

I hoped so.

Spanish, like Biology, passed at a sluggish pace. The clock on the wall appeared to be broken, the hands barely moving. Only half the lesson had passed, and, to be quite honest, I was about ready to jump up and scream from all the anxiety building up inside of me.

Right when it was getting to be too much, the headache hit.

Oh, god, _no. _I rested my head on my desk, squeezing my eyes shut and praying that this would pass. I couldn't go through this again, not today, not _now. _

The pain only increased. Within mere seconds, I was holding back a cry of pain. This was worse than my first headache, _much _worse. I just wanted it to _end. _Even just one more second-

When the pain stopped, I knew I had lost the battle.

_Three shapes slowly circle the freshman. Her head is bowed against the sudden wind - she does not notice the advancing figures, having assumed herself to be the only student out of class by now. _

_Suddenly, one figure, the red-headed female, darts in. Instantly, the girl is knocked to the ground, her eyes wide with terror. The female bends over her, her red eyes alight with a sick joy as her comrades join her, watching the small girl struggle feebly against her grasp. _

_The sandy-haired male whispers something in her ear. She nods once, looking slightly put out as she backs away from the girl. She has long since passed out. The male who had spoken draws back, as though he is going to leave the girl._

_Within the blink of an eye, the girl's breathing has stopped. Her neck is twisted at an awkward angle - she couldn't have been anything but dead. Even if she wasn't, the blood she was losing from her neck wound would have killed her quickly. _

_The three figures bend over her pale body, each taking a turn pressing their mouths to her open wound. _

_She is practically drained when another figure walks by. His features bear similarities to those feeding upon the girl, though he has a more civilized air about him. As he spots the girl and those crowded around her, his expression turns to one of disgust, then hunger. He has scented her blood._

_His eyes dark with hunger, the lean, blonde male approaches the girl..._

Gasping, my eyes snapped open, and it took me several long moments to realize where I was, and that the entire class was looking at me.

Gulping in a lungful of air, I glanced around me. Emmett's eyes were glued to me, a thousand questions dancing in them. I jerked my head slightly towards the door indicating that he needed to get outside - and fast - before turning back to the front of the classroom. I had to think fast, find a way to get out of class. My breathing still came in short gasps, and I figured that I could probably pull off having been hit with an asthma attack.

"Alice, debe usted ser dispensado?" Senorita Lee inquired, her eyebrow raised.

My mind worked to register what she had said. When I realized that she was letting me go, I hastily stood from my chair, stumbling to the door, just barely hearing her ask for a volunteer to make sure I wasn't going to collapse, dead, just three steps from the building.

Moments after I burst from the classroom, Emmett joined me.

"What did you see?" he demanded, easily keeping up with me, despite the fact that I was running.

"The nomads - they're going to kill a girl, Whitney, and - and Jasper, he - her blood-" I choked on my own words, fighting the panic rising inside of me. I couldn't let Jasper feed off a human - I thought we'd _avoided _this back in October. "Just _go._ Building 4. Hold your breath."

He nodded once before disappearing. I was alone, now, pushing myself as fast as I could. There was nothing I could do once I got there, I knew - I was just as vulnerable as Whitney, and if the nomads already had a taste for human blood... all I could do was pray that Emmett got there on time.

I rounded one corner, then the next, the school paths seeming to never end. My mind was reeling - what if Emmett was too late? What if the nomads took out more straying students? What if, what if, _what if. _What use were my visions if I never got the proper outcome?

Just when it seemed like I would never reach building 4, I rounded the last corner.

The horrific scene picked up right where it had left off.

Two of the three nomads had scattered, nowhere to be found. The remaining one, the male, was deep in conversation with Emmett, his face void of any emotion.

Jasper was standing over the ghostly pale body of Whitney. I froze mid-step when he looked up, his eyes a vibrant, crimson red. I felt the blood drain from my face. That look in his eyes, that uncontrollable hunger...

Not a second passed before he sprang. I closed my eyes and turned away. Though adrenaline pulsed through my veins, fueled purely by fear, I knew that there would be no avoiding his precise attack. If he missed, it would be a miracle.

_This wasn't how it was supposed to happen._

When I reopened my eyes, everything had blended together in one big, blurry mess.

Jasper was suddenly on the other side of the walkway, having been knocked to the ground by what I guessed was Emmett. There were other blurs, too - the bronze one, which had to be Edward, was heading towards the nomad who had stayed. The brown blur, which I assumed was Bella, was added to the tangle of colors on the ground where Jasper and Emmett were wrestling.

Without any warning, the fight stopped. Jasper was being held to the ground by Emmett and Bella both - never before had any of them looked so much like _vampires. _I felt myself begin to shake at the sight. I couldn't deny it - I was scared. I'd gotten used to the ideathat they were what they were, but seeing them look so... so _wild _was like a slap in the face. They were dangerous. Finally, I was being forced to realize that.

Every early vision I'd had of Jasper made sense as I looked at him on the ground. Emmett was snarling something in his ear, and whatever he had said seemed to bring him back to his senses. After closing his eyes for a moment, he looked up, his gaze instantly meeting mine. The moment he recognized me - for the first time since leaving me in front of the Spanish building - all of the pain and guilt I'd seen in my visions poured into his eyes. Suddenly, I could understand what I had seen. I had never thought that the visions I used to see of him looking like this would involve me - I had almost given up on trying to figure out what it was that would cause him so much grief. But it was me. It hadbeen me all along.

Months ago, before I had even spoken to him, the realization that our lives really wereintertwined would have thrilled me. I would have figured that I could prevent this, could have found a way around it...

Now, the realization that it was _me _causing him all this pain was like getting hit with a ton of bricks. I just wanted to make it go away.

Before I could even take a step towards him, I felt strong arms holding me back. I twisted around to find Rosalie gazing sympathetically at me.

"You can't go to him," she said, her voice almost soft. I'd never heard her sound so compassionate. Despite the sudden change in character, she still seemed like the sanest Cullen at the moment. "He's not completely in control of himself yet."

I struggled against her hold. "_I_ _don't care! _Let me go!"

"Alice-"

She was cut off by the sudden appearance of Edward and the male nomad, who looked quite apologetic. I felt a surge of hatred. He could feel as sorry as he wanted, but that didn't help the girl he had murdered, or the boy he had helped corrupt by coming here. _My _boy.

"I apologize on behalf of myself and my comrades for hunting here," said the nomad, bowing his head. It all looked like a perfectly choreographed skit, like he had said this all before. I didn't buy a word he said. "We did not realize the territory had been claimed. We will go now-" he shot a glance at Jasper, Emmett, and Bella, "-before we inflict any more damage."

I practically growled as his gaze lingered on me, a quizzical light entering his eyes. I didn't care how strange my predicament seemed to him. I just wanted him _gone. _

"What happened to _going?" _I spat when he remained stationary.

A flicker of amusement crossed his face as he turned to Edward. "Does the human know?"

Edward's response was curt. "Yes."

The nomad bowed his head again, this time in understanding. "We will go now," he repeated, turning on his heel and vanishing into the now too-still afternoon.

I stood completely still, my eyes fixed on my feet as my tears dropped onto the ground in front of me. Today had been just too , _just once, _couldn't my life remain calm? _Normal, _even? Just this morning I had been happily skipping out to meet an untroubled Jasper in front of the Webers' house.

That felt like a lifetime ago now.

Time didn't seem to pass as I stood there, my mind void of any thought other than my desire to find a way to comfort Jasper, to wipe the guilt and horror off of his face.

When I looked up, it was just in time to see him disappear into the forest beside the school.

* * *

**Have you been reading the facts at the beginning of the chapters? o: Is there anything you'd like to hear about specifically in a future fact-dump?**


	22. Silence

**I would give you an excuse as to why this is so late, but I have none considering this story has been written for nearly three years. Heh.**

**This week's topic: Alice's life as a psychic, as requested by JustcallmeRiley.**

**#1 - **The first time Alice truly hated her visions was when her grandmother passed away. She foresaw it and tried to warn her, but it was to no avail. Her grandmother was killed in a car accident in the very snowy day that Alice had warned her about. Since, her step-father has done his best to hide his loathing.

**#2 - **When she was younger, Alice frequently went up to strangers and asked them questions about what she did not know were their futures at the time. Most were befuddled and could not answer her questions, but they were taken in by the adorableness and were later surprised to find that what the little girl had said was happening.

**#3 - **Although Alice cannot have visions while awake, she still sometimes just 'knows' things without the help of any outside source. Often, she doesn't realize this until she says something like, "x team is going to win," and wonders why she feels so certain. She much prefers this to the catastrophe that is her getting a headache and being knocked out just to have some confusing vision.

* * *

**Insomnia**

Chapter 22

Jasper wasn't at school the next week. When I asked Emmett where he was on Thursday, he hesitated a moment before answering with a simple, "Hunting." I had been skeptical of that - what kind of hunting trip took that long?

I was patient, though. I could understand why he wouldn't want to be around humans so soon after feeding on one. The thought that he had actually drank from an innocent girl still disturbed me somewhat, but the way Edward had explained it to me afterwards had given me at least some insight as to _why _he had_. _Vampires were like sharks, he had said - they found it almost impossible to resist freely flowing blood, and, once they got a taste for it, they lost themselves in their thirst. They didn't think rationally.

It was the second Monday that my patience finally ran out. I was honestly debating whether or not to storm over there and drag him to school myself, or at least _talk _to him, something I hadn't done since the accident.

He couldn't hide forever.

_I'd _learned that the hard way.

Sighing, I hitched my bag farther up my shoulder as I cut through the parking lot. I felt a hand touch my shoulder as I was about to step onto the marshy grass, and, upon turning around, was surprised to find Edward standing behind me. I narrowed my eyes - none of the Cullens had spoken to me since the day after Whitney's death, excluding Emmett. To what did I owe this honor?

"Jasper's staying behind while the rest of us go hunting tonight," he said. "You might be able to get your answers then."

I made a big show of glancing around me. "Oh, were you talking to me? I exist again, then, do I?"

Edward looked as though he would have liked to have responded, but he simply turned around and returned to Bella's side. Her gaze lingered on me as Edward tugged her lightly after him and towards Rosalie's waiting BMW. I glared after them.

"I'll take that as a _'no'," _I muttered to myself, kicking a stone into a nearby puddle as I resumed my journey home, gritting my teeth against the chilly late-January air.

All night I was distracted. Apparently, my divided attention was obvious, for Aunt Kathy asked me several times if I was feeling alright. I'd robotically bobbed my head, my thoughts still going in circles as I tried to figure out exactly what I wanted to say to Jasper, having resolved to take up Edward's suggestion.

At about eight-thirty, I slipped into the kitchen where my aunt was busy preparing the twins' lunches for tomorrow.

"Aunt Kathy?" I asked. She started slightly, having not heard me come in.

"You're so quiet," she said, shaking her head. "What can I do for you, Alice?"

Even after living with the Webers for almost half of a year, I still felt shy asking for permission to do things like I would a parent.

"Would you mind if I went out for a while in a few minutes? It's sort of important," I hinted.

She thought for a moment. "You're a responsible girl," she eventually said. "I suppose, as long as you're back by ten."

I shot her a grateful grin before spinning around and skipping out the door, calling a cheerful, "Thanks!"

Still shrugging into my jacket, I pried open the front door, which squeaked loudly in protest, and headed out into the freezing winter night. As I picked my way through the dense forest, trying desperately not to get my ankle caught in the undergrowth, I continued to try and work out what I was going to say. It would be just like me to get to the Cullens' house and freeze up, having no idea what my intent was.

What _was _my intent? I wanted answers, but I wasn't sure what about. My stomach twisted into knots at the thought of speaking to Jasper, and, halfway there, I almost turned back for fear that I would say something to screw everything up even moreso than it already was. Maybe things could just mend themselves on their own.

I had a feeling that I would have to be more than slightly insane to believe that.

Running an anxious hand through my hair, I turned onto the Cullens' drive, feeling a twinge of triumph at having gotten there without getting lost even once on the way. I suppose that came from my following the markers Jasper and I had put on the trees just two weeks ago to keep my terrible sense of direction from causing me to end up on the Canadian border.

After taking a deep breath, I climbed the front steps of the house and rapped my fist against the polished wooden door several times. There was no response. I rolled my eyes and stood impatiently for a moment, giving Jasper a chance to stop being a wuss and open the door.

When nothing happened, I knocked on the door again, harder and louder this time, my faded patience making its grand appearance.

Still nothing.

"Open the damn door, Jasper!" I called. "I know you're home!"

Moments later, the light in the front foyer flickered on and the door swung open. I was slightly startled to find that Jasper's eyes were still red, though darker and tinted with orange. I had grown so used to the soft gold they usually were, the red was a shock.

"What?" he asked, avoiding my gaze.

I tried not to feel hurt by the curtness of his question. Couldn't he have at least_ looked_ at me? "I needed to talk to you," I said.

He continued to stare determinedly at something over my shoulder. "Fine, then. Talk."

I crossed my arms. "I'm not saying anything until you at least look at me."

"No."

"Why?"

Jasper's eyes clouded with misery. "_Because," _he said, "I can't look at you and know that I tried to _kill _you." Suddenly, his eyes were boring into mine. Well, that was sort of contradictory. "Why can't you grasp how dangerous I am to you? Wasn't me trying to rip your throat out enough of a reason to _stay away from me?"_

I felt my eyes widen at the sudden intensity of his words, the fury burning in his gaze. "Because I _trust you." _

"_Don't," _he practically snarled. I almost flinched, but caught myself at the last moment. "I'm never going to change from what I was. I've always been a monster, and I always will be. One day, my family won't be there to stop me, to save _you_, and something will go wrong."

I could practically feel myself shrinking at the way he referred to me, like I was some sort of burden that needed to be dealt with.

"You were fine up until Whitney's attack," I pointed out, forcing my voice to stay strong. "You seem to do just fine in a classroom teeming with life. That was an_ accident_.You were in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And what if I'm in the wrong place at the wrong time again someday? What if you get a paper cut, and I can't even control myself then?" Jasper demanded, disgust coloring his tone. I was almost afraid of him - I'd never seen him this angry about something, not even as he struggled to get past his brother and to my blood.

His anger only managed to reflect onto me, and I soon felt my hands balling up into fists, my eyes slits as I glared at him.

"You can't just run away from your problems."

Jasper scoffed. "_You _seem to be doing that well enough."

Something inside of me snapped, then. How _dare _he bring that up? He didn't even knowwhat had happened in Biloxi, and I was _far_ from running away from my problems - I didn't even have a home there anymore. _How _dare_ he?_

"I'm not running away from my problems," I hissed. "My father _kicked me out_, you _absolute idiot. _I didn't have anywhere else to go _but _away. But you - _you _have options, and you're being a coward. Maybe you would be better at resisting human blood if you gave yourself a freaking chance! But _no, _you're determined to see yourself as - oh, boo hoo! - some terrible monster whose problems couldn't _possibly _be self-inflicted."

He returned my glare, his eyes glinting coldly. "Maybe I don't _want _to give myself a chance_. _Some sick part of me gets enjoyment out of tasting human blood. I could easilykill you right now and not even feel remorse until hours later."

My left hand throbbed as though it would have liked to raise itself and find some way to injure him. I knew any attempt at such would be futile - I'd just end up in an emergency room with a broken hand, which would have brought on a whole new round of problems.

Not that it mattered to _him. _

"Well then, I'll just stay out of your way from now on." My voice was steely. "Then we won't have to worry anymore, will we?"

Nothing seemed right from that moment on. Up was down, and left was right.

For the first day, I couldn't even utter more than three sentences at a time without breaking down in tears. Mrs. Weber let me stay home that day, despite the fact that she hadn't any idea what was wrong with me. Angela had simply squeezed me into a hug, murmuring something encouraging in my ear. I had been too miserable to say anything back, or even thank her for putting up with me.

I was pathetic. I merely sat on my bed all day, glaring at things, crying, and wishing that I could sleep for the next week and escape the emotional train wreck that I had turned into. Maybe Jasper had been right - I _did _run away from my problems, or at least dreamed about trying. I wanted nothing more than to just curl into a ball and disappear.

Things would get better, I told myself again and again, no matter how much my emotions said otherwise.

Honestly, I didn't think I would be able to get over Jasper any time soon, not by any miracle. He was almost a part of me - ever since my earliest dreams of him up until now, three years later, he had always been important to me. I'd had so long to grow to care for him, to love him, and he had been a constant in my life even before I'd met him. And now there was the prospect that he would just be _gone, _and I didn't know what I would do without him. He'd helped me so much in finding even just a small fraction of _me _again, and now, with him gone, I was terrified that I might slip back into my old ways. It would be only too easy.

Somehow, I would have to manage without him.

And I did.

For the next six weeks, I survived. I went to school, I did my schoolwork as well as I could, and, for the first time in my life, I felt completely and utterly _normal. _I didn't have to worry about getting a paper cut or hanging out with vampires, a danger factor I had just gotten used to when I was in the company of the Cullens.

Oh, and I didn't have to worry about my visions.

They had gone away, too.

That terrified me. I remembered a time where I would have been thrilled that they were gone, _ecstatic, _but now, rather than simply putting up with my insomnia as usual, I found myself trying to keep my panic at bay. What had gone wrong inside of me? I had alwayshad visions - I couldn't have just simply _outgrown _them. They were so much a part of me that I felt lost without them, knowing that there was a chance they would never come back. It was almost like life was determined to rip everything away from me: my family, Jasper, and now my visions...

Nothing was right. Nothing was permanent. It was almost like living in a tornado, everything whipped around, ripped away just when you thought it was safe.

Still, I managed to put on a brave face and act_. _My friends didn't know anything was wrong, none except Angela - they just saw my fake smiles and heard the sound of my laughter. To them, that meant I was okay. I almost believed it, too, during the day when I was caught up in the hustle and bustle of school and my social life.

That was, until something reminded me of everything that I had lost. Every so often I would catch one of the Cullens looking at me, their eyes filled with pity and something that looked almost like longing. It was always harder, then.

All of them had acknowledged my existence, reminding me that everything that had happened over the past few months hadn't just been a fantasy.

All of them except Jasper.

All of them except the one I needed the most.


End file.
